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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27740062">the only exception</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanderersarrow/pseuds/wanderersarrow'>wanderersarrow</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Start-Up (Korea TV), 스타트업 | Start-Up</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, F/M, First Love, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Love Letters, Slow Burn, jipyeong best boi deserves happiness</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 07:34:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>33,201</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27740062</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanderersarrow/pseuds/wanderersarrow</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>They say fortune favors the brave. For those who started off a little less fortunate than others, it takes a lot more heart for courage. Luckily, he found someone worth every risk along the way.</p><p>A fix-it-fic in the Start-Up timeline where Han Jipyeong is given a fairer chance to open up his heart to the only person it ever held within for fifteen years. </p><p>Early chapters follow the sequence of canon episodes: later chapters build on a series of what-ifs strung together.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Han Ji Pyeong &amp; Choi Won Deok, Han Ji Pyeong/Seo Dal Mi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>115</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>240</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. letters to dalmi</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Inspired by my favorite JiDal FMV: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LzftZYwdu1U">watch it here</a></p><p>I own none of the characters, but they own my heart.</p><p>I always write with music in mind, so I made a Spotify playlist for this fic (with a song for every chapter): <a href="https://open.spotify.com/playlist/28YNr2Ky0ZWh9ZSGh8i5qp?si=TvZ91ocuQyi4S_XapTx_Hw">listen here</a></p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The cascade of spring followed his unhurried steps as his mind wandered elsewhere, lost in the book his head was buried in. <em> Bullish, bearish, candlesticks </em>...  the answers to all his problems must somehow be in all these pages.</p><p>“I’m not in a good mood right now…”</p><p>A girl’s voice shrieked with all her might, shaking as her eyes reddened. “... so stop following me!” she yelled at his face before running away.</p><p>Jipyeong was incredulous. “Me? Following her? What’s with <em>her</em>?” But his gaze did follow her shadow as the girl kept running and running on the way home.</p><p><em> Home </em>. He thought it was utterly strange to even have an idea of home, no matter how transitory it may be like everything else in his life. </p><p>Just as he was about to scold himself for harboring unnecessary attachment, the girl ran into the arms of the only figure that somehow meant home to him.</p><p>“Halmeoni!” The girl cried. “I’m all alone now, what do I do?”</p><p>Her words were inaudible from the other side of the street. But as she screamed <em> Halmeoni </em>over and over again in sobs, his baffled glare began to soften. No matter the details, he knew what those cries meant - abandonment, loneliness, rejection. Her entire world was crumbling and there was nothing she could do.</p><p>That night as they sat side-by-side in the warmth of the corn dog shop, Jipyeong knew something was up. Between them, he always stayed silent and indifferent as Halmeoni pestered him all day on what he ate and whether he got enough sleep. But tonight, it was her turn to be sullen and inconsolable.</p><p>Despite himself, Jipyeong was genuinely worried about her. “Is anything wrong?”</p><p>She didn’t answer, her empty gaze instead diverting to his notebook. “Jipyeong, your handwriting is really nice!”</p><p>“You saw my granddaughter earlier, right? Her name’s Dalmi,” she continued. The shift in her tone seemed to anticipate a certain response from him, he could tell.</p><p>“Dalmi?” He tried to sound as uninterested, even appalled, as possible. “That’s her name? It’s as old-fashioned as she looks.” </p><p>Halmeoni didn’t fail to notice how Jipyeong averted her eyes as he mumbled incoherently. Her Good Boy was wise beyond his years in many things, but is clearly not as skilled in hiding what he feels.</p><p>Her excitement connected the dots forming in her head. Finally, she looked up to Jipyeong and asked a question neither knew was the point of no return.</p><p>“Can you write her a letter?”</p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>As winter arrived, Jipyeong spent his entire days in the library, splitting his time between preparing for university entrance exams and the heart-pounding game of trading actual stocks with actual money: a calculated gamble he was surprisingly good at. After all, any notion of high risk is meaningless when you’ve got nothing to lose.</p><p>Getting to a good university in Seoul and making good money to live there independently - those were the two inextricable threads of his escape. Needless to say, no distractions were welcome. No detours from the life he’s designing for himself, one that was finally not a tattered hand-me-down of fickle fortune.</p><p>And yet, his pace slackens when he approaches the all-too-familiar corn dog stand. As if his eyes had a mind of their own, they stole a peep at the bird box whenever he walked past it.</p><p><em> Will there be an envelope today? </em> fills his thoughts for a millisecond before his shoulders drop at a clear no. Jipyeong shakes off the thought almost physically. No way is he affected by <em> that </em> girl, who’s really been nothing but a nuisance taking up his headspace.</p><p>Except he could never rationalize the time he spent ruminating and pouring out thoughtful sentences into the letters. Okay, maybe her words made him smile once… twice… thrice at most, but that was it.</p><p>Sometimes, he’d sit by the curb and read her replies because he couldn’t wait. But hey, any unexpected letter would make people excited, right?</p><p> </p><p>One time, Dalmi caught him red-handed.</p><p>“What are you doing with that? Who are you?” she frantically inquired, eyes fixed at his hands on <em> her </em>envelope. She looked frazzled, exhausted from another round of flyering. Jipyeong noticed her eyes were puffy; Dalmi always had tears in the corner of her eyes for some reason.</p><p>She came out of nowhere, but Jipyeong knew it was his fault for being careless, for letting his emotions get the better of him for a good long while. </p><p>“Are you N-Nam Dosan?” she quietly murmured. He sat motionless as a shocked Dalmi gazed up and down the letter and his face like absolutely nothing made sense to her.</p><p>“No, of course not,” his words were quicker than whatever was on his mind. “I just- this dropped to the ground and the envelope was already torn.”</p><p>From where he was sitting, Jipyeong could sense her confusion and even slight disappointment. But Dalmi looked too downcast that day to even dissect his last-minute white lie. He expected her to run away like she did when they first met but instead, she sat beside him curbside and began to tear up again. </p><p>Jipyeong folded back the letter and prepared to leave, but was stopped when Dalmi spoke. “I don’t care whoever you are. Everyone leaves anyway.” She sniffled.</p><p>He laid the letter down and sat with her in silence as Dalmi released all her pent-up frustration, anger, weariness and worries until she stopped crying. He shot her a knowing glance at times, smirking at the details he knew by heart that Dalmi still explained: her dad’s business, her sister and her mom, Halmeoni, and the “special friend” she never actually met.</p><p>“How do you know he’s real, then?” Jipyeong broke his silence cautiously.</p><p>Dalmi looked into his eyes that Jipyeong recoiled as the walls around him clammed up. She whispered with her hand to her chest, “I can <em> feel </em> he’s real. I’m never wrong about these things.”</p><p>“Oh! You two!” Halmeoni’s voice suddenly yelped from inside the stand. “I just took a nap inside and you’ve met?” She blinked to check if it really were the two aimless cubs in her care.</p><p>“Dalmi! This is Good Boy, he’s-”</p><p>“A customer!” Jipyeong interrupted. “I thought you were still open, Halmeoni. I should just, um, come back!” He bowed low and ran the other direction, finding refuge in a park bench that night.</p><p><em>This is getting way too complicated </em> , Jipyeong thought, <em> I really should think about leaving soon.</em></p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>His painful encounter with Halmeoni still fresh in his mind, Jipyeong sat with his head hung low while waiting for his bus to Seoul. He didn’t need her pity, didn’t need to care and ache for her pain as much as he did. In this life where only survival mattered, people like Halmeoni should be treated as deadweights that only make his steps away from this quaint town heavier. </p><p>Jipyeong fidgeted with his bus ticket, his license to escape without turning back. He felt ashamed, hurt even by what he told her but there was no space for apologies nor regrets in the life he needed to live. As he bit back his own sorrow, a shadow cast over him and there she stood, the source of his anguish herself.</p><p>“Your worn-out shoes have been bothering me, so I bought a new pair for you. Try them on.” Halmeoni threw the grey shoes at him as Jipyeong tried to suppress any feeling coming to the fore.</p><p>“Are you trying to make me feel guilty?” He already was of course, so the walls around his steel castle were raised once more as he shot tirades at her - about making him run away, about getting rich to make her jealous - to keep himself from putting meaning into the gesture.</p><p>To his surprise, she played along. Within moments, he was in tears as Halmeoni lovingly told him only to return when he has nowhere else to go.</p><p>“Don’t just stand in the rain. You know where to find the keys.”</p><p>His words were stuck in his windpipe as the operator called for riders to Seoul. He walked away and promised not to look back. But this time, he was wrong. There <em>was</em> room for regret in his life. As there is for warmth, gratitude, love. He ran back to embrace the only family he’s ever known.</p><p>“Take care, okay?”</p><p> </p><p>Watching from a distance at the station entrance, Dalmi wiped her tears as he held her Halmeoni tight, just like she did the time she felt the world had abandoned her. She saw so many sides of him tonight, but the image of him hugging Halmeoni was enough to quiet her curiosity for the meantime.</p><p>She only met him once officially and she never even got to know his name, but he was definitely special. Like her Halmeoni said, he was a Good Boy. Lucky for him, Dalmi came along to handpick the shoes her grandma ended up giving him. Or else he would have ended up with an outdated pair.</p><p>Dalmi smiled. She never makes the wrong choice, after all.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. strong winter winds</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“At the time, the wind began to blow…” - the wizard of oz</p><p>A retelling of the 'present' part of Episode 1 until the networking party in Episode 2 with more JiDal crumbs than we've been given in canon.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I chose my favorite song to accompany this chapter, it's called "Somewhere Only We Know" by Lily Allen :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Yeongsil, what’s the weather like today?”</p><p>Jipyeong went about his routine like usual, a comfortable daily grind that began with a chilled bottle straight out of the fridge after a morning workout.</p><p>But his digital companion apparently had other ideas.</p><p>“Here’s your fortune for today… the god of fate will send a gentle breeze into your peaceful life.”</p><p>Exasperated, Jipyeong cursed the so-called “smart” assistant for churning out nonsense yet again. Yeongsil was the product to be tested, not his patience reaching the end of the tether. Why did he agree to test the thing at his place again?</p><p>Yeongsil droned on. “You may run into someone you met briefly in the past at an unexpected place. Be careful. The person may seem like a spring breeze at first but turn into a strong winter wind and change your life completely.”</p><p>Unconsciously, Jipyeong mulled over Yeongsil’s senseless weather report as he made his way to work. He was always told guileless indifference was his handy talent, one of the reasons behind his brilliance as a venture capitalist.</p><p>While the entire market hypes a new company for so-called potential or panics over falling stock prices, Jipyeong’s sharp eyes have always been able to filter out the noise and see things exactly for what they are without being shaken. There was only one time in his life when he was, and he never stopped beating himself up for a year’s worth of weakness.</p><p>Yeongsil wasn’t just malfunctioning. The thing’s error hit a sore spot, reminding him of a point in time when he cared too much for his own good. But he was in a much better place now, and absolutely nothing can force him to look back again.</p><p> </p><p>Brushing off any distraction, he stepped up the Sandbox stage as his mentor and SH Venture Capital CEO gently pat him on the back. “From the look on your face, it seems like Gordon Ramsay is coming out full force today…” she whispered to him as they settled in their seats.</p><p>Jipyeong merely smirked. He had no shame in the nickname he earned. It takes an extraordinary record anyway to gain enough reputation for a moniker. He smiled as he heard the same from Won Injae next to him who was grilled about hate comments, which were as ordinary as <em> ramyeon </em> and <em> tteokbokki </em>on the streets of Seoul to him.</p><p>“Hello, my name is Seo Dalmi.”</p><p>After a deafening static from a hijacked microphone, Jipyeong thought his hearing betrayed him.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> You may run into someone you met briefly in the past at an unexpected place. </em>
</p><p>“Seo Dalmi?” He rolled the name on his tongue, triggering something warm, familiar, almost tragic in him. Surely there can’t be so many Seo Dalmis in Korea, right? </p><p>“What’s wrong? Do you know her?” CEO Yoon asked, sensing the tension in his voice.</p><p>“No,” he quickly denied. But as the woman in front of him proceeded to ask her question, Jipyeong couldn’t help leaning forward and trying to fit the pieces together. His pulse picked up pace as he traced every feature of her face from afar.</p><p>Everything about her looked different; give old-fashioned looks a decade and they’ll turn timeless, he thought. <em> Pretty </em> was an understatement, frazzled hair and all. But there was something he saw that only belonged to the Dalmi he knew.</p><p>Her eyes. They still looked like they were about to burst into tears any minute. Yet she stood tall with so much pride, the same kind of pride she held when she yelled at him the first time they met.</p><p>The next thing he knew, said proud woman was banging her head mindlessly at the bus stop. Jipyeong didn’t mean to follow, but he stayed still with his Benz in hazard mode as more questions filled his mind from afar.</p><p>“What’s with her? What the hell?”</p><p>As if he hasn’t seen enough to be bewildered, Dalmi began to laugh.  In the middle of the night on a road he’s traversed a thousand times, Jipyeong’s world was suddenly flooded with sunshine. The corners of his mouth rose; perhaps his facial muscles had never been so taut from smiling so wide before. He was laughing with her before he knew it until she was sullen again.</p><p>“Is she crazy? Is she sick?”</p><p>Force of nature, that girl. Now he was certain she was <em> the </em>Seo Dalmi; no one could make him question his own judgment the way she did. He’d been so good at drawing the line that no one else could make him smile and then worried in a matter of milliseconds.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Be careful. </em>
</p><p>Yeongsil’s words rang in his ears as he cranked up the engine, making a sharp U-turn by impulse. There was no reason for him to run after her except curiosity: why she looked so young yet so worn down, so confident when she asked the question but downcast as she left, so lost in spite of her passion.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> The person may seem like a spring breeze at first but turn into a strong winter wind and change your life completely. </em>
</p><p>Jipyeong’s heart stopped when he saw what - nay, who - Dalmi was walking towards. His knees froze as the warm glow and a whiff of Cheongmyeong’s Corn Dogs sent tremors down his spine. <em> Of course </em>.</p><p>Jipyeong was transported back to his eighteen-year old self, drenched in the rain as he kept running aimlessly until the fragile woman now handing the apron over to Dalmi had enkindled a fire within him, never extinguished even by decades of loneliness and pride.</p><p>Luck was never on his side for eighteen years but since Halmeoni believed in him, there was finally a reason to outmaneuver fortune. It had been too long that the feeling inside him forgot its name - indebtedness, gratitude, longing? But as he watched the pair from above, he remembered that the warm flame contained a promise - he’d pay her back, one way or another. Even if it took a lifetime. </p><p>So much that he ditched his Benz the morning after for a walk along the Han River, his feet dragging him to the yellow stand with a window that looked too heavy for the old woman to lift alone. She called him Good Boy and he nodded despite himself as she scanned his face for any indication that he was lost, hungry, or without a home.</p><p>“Do you have nowhere to go?” she asked him in trepidation, and Jipyeong’s arms engulfed the tiny woman after so many years. Truth be told, it wouldn’t have been a lie if he nodded and said yes. Sure, he was on top of his game career-wise, couldn’t ask for anything more in his life from the outside looking in. </p><p>When you’ve reached the top of what you thought you wanted your entire life, there comes a grain of truth to having nowhere left to go. He was only climbing higher and higher aimlessly, but he wasn't happy. When he saw Dalmi again the night before, the lacks in his life became crystal-clear, gaps that couldn’t be filled with nine-digit accounts to his name. When Halmeoni embraced him tighter, the flame of her warmth burned those holes even wider that his tattered heart could no longer find anywhere to hide.</p><p> </p><p>So when Halmeoni came to his office’s doorstep with a bunch of corn dogs and a preposterous request, Jipyeong couldn’t possibly refuse.</p><p><em> Nam Dosan </em>. The name left a bitter taste in his mouth. The guy was probably smart, sweet, and everything he and Halmeoni thought were right for Dalmi fifteen years ago. Jipyeong resented the name because it represented everything he didn’t have - a family that’s proud of him, a home to shelter him from the rain, a successful headline without a sensationalist sob story of an orphan making it on his own. Nam Dosan was everything he wished Dalmi could have in a friend, too. Someone she could be proud of, not a friend with a lifetime’s worth of baggage atop his youth.</p><p>So when he found the <em> real </em> Nam Dosan in a futile search, Jipyeong wanted to curse fortune for making him believe the guy was any better than him years ago. The way the “CEO” begged for him to be his Sherpa or whatnot was unbelievable, unnerving to even say that Dosan held a candle to every single guy Dalmi rejected. </p><p>Jipyeong held a tinge of regret for giving the letters away to Dosan, but they were of no use to him anyway. Not after he’d committed each of Dalmi’s words to memory after counting on them for refuge for so long. Perhaps the reason he hadn’t searched far and wide for Halmeoni despite his share of ups and downs were Dalmi’s letters keeping him company for fifteen years. But Jipyeong felt he didn’t deserve any of her faith in him; he was a penniless, roofless kid who only had his pride back them. </p><p>He guffawed in his living room, cringing at his younger self’s shame at using his own name to sign the letters. Suddenly, Yeongsil’s absurdity was amusing as he closed his eyes, his mirth mirroring the frenzy he saw in Seo Dalmi that night at the bus stop.</p><p>In the silence of his room, it finally hit Han Jipyeong: there was nothing he was ashamed of now, nothing that could prevent him from meeting his old friend exactly as himself.</p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>With time running out on the night of the networking party, Jipyeong dusted off the sneakers Halmeoni gave him, his only pair that survived various addresses in fifteen years. He was tempted not to go at all; there was much to work to do at his office that a networking party would be a waste of time.</p><p>But Dalmi’s words strung themselves together in his head, in the voice he now knew from the Dalmi of the present: <em> I bet you have a wonderful melody. I’m sure of it. You’ve comforted me all of these years… and you always will. </em></p><p>He spared no minute and put on the sneakers, an offbeat contrast to his expensive tux and watch, and sped to the venue without any other hope but to be there for the woman whose words have been his own source of comfort for many years. Above all, Jipyeong just wanted a chance to catch up, to see her up close and read what the sadness in her eyes meant.</p><p>Using a car he only reserved for the most special of occasions, Jipyeong arrived at dusk when the venue was still hardly filled with people.  He rushed inside, nodding politely at anyone who recognized him until he came into the vast hall with Dalmi still nowhere in sight. </p><p>Lost in a daze, Jipyeong suddenly felt nauseous. Not only did he skip two meals to get to the party as quickly as he can, he maxed through all the speed limits that his stomach felt like it would drop any minute. His nerves weren’t helping at all, and at the smell of raw sashimi from the hors d'oeuvres going around, Jipyeong made a run for the toilets, barely locking the cubicle as he bowed his head on the nearest bowl he could find.</p><p>Nothing came out as expected, but as he was about to rush out, a flurry of female-sounding voices entered the bathroom and Jipyeong realized that he’d forgotten to check the icons outside and he may have entered the Women’s Bathroom. Unsure of how he’d come out now without seeming like the biggest pervert in the world, he waited for complete silence.</p><p>Just as he was about to unlock his cubicle, a familiar voice echoed from the partition beside him.</p><p>“<em> Aigoo, </em> Seo Dalmi. Ain’t I the most pathetic person in the world? Wearing this pretentious suit with a pretend-boyfriend who doesn’t even exist? In-jae will probably have the biggest laugh of her life tonight. Starting a business, my ass. Who am I fooling here? What the hell did I get myself into?”</p><p>Jipyeong stuck his ear at the partition, realizing who was in the cubicle beside him. She began to laugh again, that maniacal sound that was music to his ears that made Jipyeong giggle himself. Suddenly, Dalmi fell silent.</p><p>“Who’s in there? How much did you hear? Won In-jae?” she asked, knocking the partition. </p><p>“No, it’s not! It’s just-” Jipyeong blurted out in his best attempt to make his voice three pitches higher to no avail.</p><p>“A man?” Dalmi was furious. He heard her unlock her cubicle and suddenly she was yelling at the top of her lungs at his door. “<em> Ya, </em> how dare you step foot in a woman’s bathroom? I thought these events were for people with manners, but I guess men really are trash. Open up, you pervert!”</p><p>Jipyeong stood motionless, his head crouched downwards. “No, it’s all a misunderstanding!” he breathlessly exclaimed as Dalmi tried to force opening his lock. “Seriously, give me a second, will you?”</p><p>“I’m a nervous wreck, just as scared as you that I went into the wrong bathroom to throw up. This is all new to me too, you know? I’m afraid of disappointing” <em> you </em>, he almost said, “people… that I might not be everything they thought I’d be, you know?” </p><p>As Jipyeong spoke, Dalmi stopped banging the door and sank down into the floor, laying her weight onto Jipyeong’s cubicle. Jipyeong sat on the opposite side too, his hands a few centimeters from hers. “Tell me about it,” Dalmi whispered.</p><p>“Yeah, it sucks, right? But I’ve been in this industry long enough to know that for every person who prays upon your failure… there’s always another person rooting for you to make it. Trust me.”Dalmi smiled, remembering the look of pride in Halmeoni’s eyes before she left the house for the party. She answered, her voice softening. “You know, you’re probably right. Thanks.” A surge of warmth shot up Jipyeong’s system.</p><p>“Wait a minute, if you’ve been in this industry that long to dish out advice, what made you so nervous you felt like throwing up?” Dalmi asked, her curiosity piqued by this man who sounded like he knew everything and  nothing at the same time. </p><p>Jipyeong grinned; only Seo Dalmi could put him on the spot. “Yeah, it doesn’t  make sense, right?”</p><p>“Well… how about this - since you gave me nice advice, if you need one person to root for you, even just for tonight, can I volunteer to fill that spot?”</p><p>His hand reaching his chest as he smiled, Jipyeong felt his heart was going to burst out of giddiness. “Okay, sure,” he answered mid-grin. “I can be that someone for you too, even just for tonight.”</p><p>“Deal,” Dalmi said, brushing a stray piece of hair behind her ear. “And since I’m rooting for you, I’m gonna go out now and I won’t tell anyone a man was ever here. You can come out when I yell from outside, okay? I won’t even look to see who you are so you won’t be embarrassed or anything.”</p><p>“Thanks,” Jipyeong said, his smile widening ever more as Dalmi spoke sweetly to him like they were kids keeping a secret. “Good luck, Seo Dalmi.”</p><p>Dalmi felt her heart pound at the mention of her name. She walked out, spirits higher than ever, and checked if the coast was clear. A few meters from the bathroom entrance, she yelled “Fighting, Nervous Wreck!” clear enough for Jipyeong to hear from inside.</p><p> </p><p>When he finally got out, Jipyeong made his way back to the hall just as the projected screen read “<em> At the time, the wind began to blow… </em>”</p><p>Yeongsil wasn’t malfunctioning after all, Jipyeong realized, as he inched closer to Dalmi. Unbeknownst to her, the promise they just made simply revived the spirit of letters long-sent but never forgotten. And finally, he was ready to tell her exactly the entirety of the truth beneath them.</p><p>But just as he was about to willingly embrace the winter wind that had already changed his life in a span of a week, the winds of fate began to shift direction as Nam Dosan made his way to Dalmi a few steps ahead of him.</p><p>Fickle fortune, indeed.  Jipyeong sighed, holding on to the clandestine promise sealed with no other witness but the bathroom walls. It’s going to be okay. Dalmi was rooting for him, and that was enough for him to set out on an all-too-familiar mission: to outmaneuver fortune itself, whatever it takes.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for the kind words so far; I'll try to update this more often now before Start-Up ends this weekend! The sorry disadvantage afforded to Jidal these past eps are enough to power me through a week of intense writing. See you again soonest!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. rainbow's end</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>What if Han Jipyeong drove Seo Dalmi home on the night of the networking party?<br/>What if he spent the eve of his birthday with her just as he wished fifteen years ago?<br/>What if Halmeoni knew about Jipyeong's feelings much earlier?<br/>What if Seo Dalmi caught up quicker with all the clues that linked Han Jipyeong to her long-lost love?</p><p>Fluffy rewrite of Episodes 3-4 in shameless JiDal fashion.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Written with "Gone, Gone, Gone" by Phillip Philips in mind. :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em>Today, I wandered aimlessly on purpose...</em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p class="">Jipyeong took a bold step forward, Dalmi's words clear in reminiscence.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p class="">
    <em>Have you ever let yourself get soaked even though you had an umbrella? That's what I did today...</em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p class="">Another step. His heart began to draw somersaults in his chest.</p>
<p></p><div class="indented">
<p></p><blockquote><p class="">
      <em>After walking, an unbelievably beautiful scene unfolded before my eyes. I saw a huge rainbow, it looked as though it would grant me any wish.</em>
    </p></blockquote></div><p class="">Seeing Dalmi link her arm with Dosan quickly, Jipyeong gulped. He froze in his step as Won Injae and her mother approached Dalmi with a threatening gait. He felt like an outsider looking in, as Dalmi locked her gaze with the Dosan in front of her with complete faith in him. Jipyeong felt as if any compass guiding his way to her was lost.</p>
<p></p><div class="indented">
<p></p><blockquote><p class="">
      <em>Then it suddenly hit me. It's actually nice to wander aimlessly once in a while. From time to time... it'd be wonderful to sail off without a map.</em>
    </p></blockquote></div><p class="">He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. There was no clear path in front of him but Dalmi from the letters was right. There was no way he'd know if a rainbow was waiting for him if he never risked getting soaked in the rain. Closing the distance, he watched as Nam Dosan stumbled over his own words and handed over a gaudy-looking business card.</p><p class="">Then he heard Won Injae pop a question that he knew was going to break Dalmi's composure if left unanswered. "Did you start a funding round?"</p><p class="">Dosan was helpless; Injae looked like she would devour the pair whole with words that could scar Dalmi forever. That was Jipyeong's cue; the ball was thrown to his court now and there was no wasting this chance.</p><p class="">"It's a seed stage company we're immensely interested in."</p><p class="">All eyes on him, Jipyeong quickly formulated the perfect response as he spoke. Dalmi was shocked by the sudden intrusion, but was even more piqued by the familiarity of <em>this voice </em>which she'd heard far too recently to be mistaken.</p><p class="">"I'd say it's a Pre-Series A company. Right, Mr. Nam?"</p><p class="">Injae was visibly struck, calling him "Team Leader Han" in awe. In a split-second, Dalmi put two and two together as Mr. Han introduced himself to her, with a business card and a handshake. Dalmi cleared her throat as she read the card.</p><p class="">"Mr. Han Jipyeong, Senior Manager, SH Venture Capital" she read from the card. Thinking on her feet, she shook his hand and continued. "Your company came up with Sandbox, right?"</p><p class="">"Huh? I mean, yes." Jipyeong blinked rapidly, confused as to where this exchange was headed.</p><p class="">"Perfect. We're in a networking party after all, so I've got a few questions for you. Please, excuse us," Dalmi said as she let go of Dosan's arm and waited for Jipyeong to follow her lead.</p><p class="">They settled in one of the cocktail tables a couple of meters away, with Jipyeong unable to meet Dalmi's eyes.</p><p class="">"You're the <em>nervous wreck </em>from the bathroom, aren't you? The hell is going on, Team Leader Han?" she asked incredulously with his company title in sarcastic air quotes. Jipyeong leaned in closer, panicked at Dalmi's sudden rise in tone. "Lower your voice, at least pretend you're here to network."</p><p class="">Dalmi scoffed in annoyance, but followed his advice anyway. "Are you going to answer my question or not?"</p><p class="">Putting on a pensive expression as if they were actually discussing something related to business, Jipyeong said "you know what, let me get back to you on that..." and pretended to take a phone call.</p><p class="">Dalmi grabbed his wrist. "Not. So. Fast." She quickly withdrew as she saw Dosan walking towards them. She smoothed her skirt and whispered quietly, "okay, I'll let you go this once... Just tell me you have an exit plan from this horrible place."</p><p class="">"Exit plan?" Jipyeong responded. "What are you talking about?"</p><p class="">"Two things. First, you said you were nervous and second, you said you got my back. Tell me: how do I get out of here without looking like one big loser?"</p><p class="">Jipyeong felt like laughing, but held it in as Nam Dosan made his way to their cocktail table.</p><p class="">"Is everything okay?"</p><p class="">Answering <em>yes</em> in unison, Dalmi and Jipyeong faced him with their arms behind their backs like two children guiltily caught licking frosting off a cake. "Mr. Nam," Jipyeong said, "can we talk outside?"</p><p class=""> </p>
<hr/><p class=""> </p><p class="">Meeting each other's long strides until they reached the valet area, Nam Dosan broke the silence between them. "Care to tell me what's going on, Mr. Han?"</p><p class="">"Well, you told me you weren't going. Why'd you showed up all of a sudden? I already told you Sandbox was beyond my ability. Are you just here to help?"</p><p class="">"Yes, but I'm not sure I was helpful..."</p><p class="">Jipyeong snapped. "You're not, so we can stop this ruse already."</p><p class="">"What do you mean, are you telling her the truth?"</p><p class="">"I don't know, but we can't keep this up, okay? She's got a sixth sense, I'm telling you," Jipyeong said, shuddering at their eerie conversation only moments before.</p><p class="">From where they stood, the pair saw Dalmi caught up in a tight spot with her sister and mother who both clearly made her uncomfortable. Jipyeong looked closer and saw Dalmi's eyes, again on the verge of crying so he made up his mind and nodded to the valet behind him.</p><p class="">"Thanks for coming tonight, but you won't need to anymore," he pat Dosan on the back as he quickly entered his favorite Benz.</p><p class="">It was only a short distance, but he stepped on the accelerator anyway to make sure that not a single tear would fall to hurt Dalmi's pride. His tires screeched meters away from where she stood with her mother.</p><p class="">"Ms. Seo," he called out from the driver's seat. "You were asking for Sandbox project templates, right?" Jipyeong stepped out. "Ah, sorry if I'm interrupting something. But we can pass by my office if you have time?"</p><p class="">Dalmi sniffled, her anguish replaced again by confusion and relief - two emotions she'd somehow attached to this shady character who pops up with impeccable timing - as she faced him and answered. "Sure, I've got the time."</p><p class="">Jipyeong smiled wryly and opened up the passenger door for her, his hand guarding her head on the way in. Knowing exactly what she needed, he drove out at the speed of light as Dalmi's tears began to flow. They sat in silence for a while until Jipyeong offered her tissues from his glove compartment. She took it and sneezed, not noticing an envelope that fell out with the box.</p><p class="">"Ms. Seo!" Jipyeong's voice jumped a pitch higher. "Close your eyes. Now."</p><p class="">"Huh?" Dalmi almost looked down, befuddled.</p><p class="">"Trust me, please, close your eyes?" Jipyeong was desperate; the letter still in plain sight near Dalmi's feet. This was the one letter he couldn't bring himself to give Dosan - Dalmi's last letter to him before their correspondence ended; just one that he at least thought he had a right to keep.</p><p class="">Dalmi finally relented, closing her eyes. Jipyeong slowed down the vehicle on hazard mode in the middle of the Han River bridge, his arm stretching out quickly to pick up the letter and pocket it inside his coat. Without realizing it, he'd hit the button to activate the convertible and the spring breeze swept over the two of them.</p><p class="">"This is nice, let's just keep driving like this," Dalmi smiled in spite of her confusion.</p><p class="">Jipyeong looked over at her serene face, tear stains still on her cheeks. "You can open your eyes now," he quietly said.</p><p class="">Dalmi's eyes fluttered open, incidentally just as a fireworks show began before them. Her senses were overwhelmed by the sheer breadth and magnificence of it, bright lights in various colors popping up the entire length of the city skyline. "It's so pretty," she couldn't help herself saying.</p><p class="">Jipyeong drank in the sight from the driver seat - Dalmi and the lights around her - as he responded, "It is, like a rainbow, right?"</p><p class="">Her eyes quickly darted towards him, suddenly seeing someone else in the mysterious Han Jipyeong, who she'd never even heard of before that night.</p><p class="">Fortunately, her thought process was dismissed altogether when she heard grumbling from his stomach that made her snicker. "Right, you showed up looking like a hot-shot that I completely forgot you threw up in the women's bathroom. How about dinner? It's on me."</p><p class=""> </p>
<hr/><p class=""> </p><p class="">They didn't find anything on the way that was still open except for a convenience store near the Han River shoreline, grabbing instant noodle cups and calling it a meal. The pair found a place to sit nearby and Dalmi giggled as Jipyeong slurped the noodles enthusiastically without pause.</p><p class="">She was flustered at her own reaction, slapping her own cheek softly. She <em>cannot</em> be finding another guy intriguing on the same night she finally met her first love of fifteen years. She forced her eyes away from staring at Han Jipyeong and spoke, praying for her good senses to return any minute.</p><p class="">"So... now that we're even - you offered me an escape route, I offered you dinner - are you ready to tell me what's <em>actually</em> going on?"</p><p class="">Jipyeong was too immersed in his noodle dinner to even take heed of her question so Dalmi continued, her voice brimming with frustration. "What did I get myself into? I <em>left </em>Nam Dosan - who I've been looking for for more than fifteen years - and end up in a random place on a random car with a random stranger I just met?"</p><p class="">Jipyeong slurped his last and put his cup doen. He watched her meltdown from up close, grabbing the cup noodles in her hands that she wasn't touching. "Are you still going to eat this?" He finally said. "'Cause if you're not..."</p><p class="">"Han Ji-pyeong<em>ssi!</em>" Dalmi stood up and folded her arms, indignant at his fixation with noodles at the moment. "If I were any wiser, I'd say this was kidnapping. You saw me, a <em>pretty</em> woman clearly in her prime, emotionally exposed while I poured out my feelings to you in the bathroom and then you stalked me for the rest of the night until we ended up here. Am I right? Are you even <em>really</em> Han Jipyeong?" she finished, tapping her foot on the concrete.</p><p class="">His mouth agape at the elaborate fiction she'd already concocted in mind, Jipyeong set down the cup in his hand. His iron grip on his emotions loosened by the second; he himself had no proper answer to her questions. But her fiery expression and the way she stood with so much pride reminded him of a little girl who yelled at him to stop following her one spring day even if he wasn't.</p><p class="">As the past and present merged into the woman before him, Jipyeong couldn't stop himself from laughing. She was right; the situation they was unthinkable, terrifying even if it were anyone else. But she was Seo Dalmi - gutsy, reckless, and too trusting for her own good. No matter how hard he tried, the guffaws kept coming as he struggled to catch his breath. <em>This was insane, and there was no way rational way out of this mess for him.</em></p><p class="">Dalmi sat back down and stared blankly at him; she'd only known him for hours but she had a nagging feeling that he didn't laugh often, that this moment was as rare to him as it was for her. She mocked him with a laugh of her own, but her eyes kept darting towards the dimples forming in his cheeks.<em> Okay, so maybe this version of Han Jipyeong is cute</em>. "Shit," Dalmi said as she closed her eyes, her mind trailing back to her first love. <em>Nam Dosan...</em> she kept chanting in her head.</p><p class="">"Stop laughing," Dalmi hit his arm, which was surprisingly toned, as the most important question popped in her head. "Why did you approach Dosan earlier? Do you know him, by any chance?"</p><p class="">Upon mention of the name that he dreaded to hear, Jipyeong's mirth came to a halt. He looked down, suddenly unsure of himself in a way that only an imaginary Nam Dosan could trigger. "Yeah, kind of" he replied weakly. "I know him from a very long time ago. We go back sometime."</p><p class="">"Really?" Dalmi's voice perked up, relieved that her excitement about her first love was returning. "What was he like? What's he like now?" she pried on.</p><p class="">Jipyeong was debating between telling her the harsh truth or words she'd like to hear. "Nam Dosan... grew up well. He's good at programming for sure, I looked through his proposal once when they submitted to SH for funding. He's kind, has a nice family," he paused briefly, suddenly at a loss for words. "But we're not friends or anything... I barely know him, to be honest."</p><p class="">"He's amazing, isn't he? I was nervous about opening my music box, but it looks like he's just as I imagined him to be," Dalmi responded, trying to assure herself despite doubts. Jipyeong, of course, knew exactly what she was talking about when she said <em>music box. </em>He just nodded with a faint smile.</p><p class="">Dalmi noticed his pained expression. "Why did you bail him out then? I mean, you said you barely knew him. Were you... helping me?" she asked cautiously, more afraid of a <em>yes</em> than she cared to admit.</p><p class="">Jipyeong looked at her face, genuine concern written all over. If he can't be the Nam Dosan in her memory; if revealing the truth was going to hurt her anyway, then perhaps the best he could do was to be the Han Jipyeong in her present.</p><p class="">"Because we're in the same boat, you and I," Jipyeong said, tilting his head towards her with a smile. "Nervous wrecks who just needed some help. Even just for the night."</p><p class="">Dalmi nodded slowly, tearing her gaze away from him and her thoughts from the warm sensation building up her chest. "What you did was cool, you know. Whoever you came to the party for, the one you said you were nervous about disappointing... I'm sure they'd be impressed if they knew what you did," she said with her hand pressed to her chest.</p><p class="">Jipyeong's ears reddened, he wanted to scream out of giddiness and pump his fist in the air. Attempting to diffuse the woozy schoolboy shyness coming onto him, he blurted out, "it's getting late, your grandma might be worried."</p><p class="">Dalmi flinched at the mention of her Halmeoni, but she didn't dare pry; it was within the realm of possibility that she casually mentioned her grandma over the night. Instinctively, she reached out a hand. "Your phone, Mr. Han?"</p><p class="">Jipyeong stared at her without a word. But Dalmi's hand remained outstretched. "You think I'm already convinced you're who you say you are? I still have questions and since you've practically kidnapped me tonight, give me your number or else, you'll be getting a call from the cops."</p><p class="">When Jipyeong reached his doorstep that night after finally driving Dalmi home, he immediately regretted giving her an open line to him. He was seconds away from calling out Yeongsil to turn on the lights before his phone buzzed. Twice. Thrice.</p><p class="">"Yeongsil, please turn on the lights," he said, thoroughly exhausted after the long night that clearly has yet to come to an end.</p><p class="">He sank into his couch as his phone vibrated in his pocket again. Groaning at the mess he's gotten himself into, Jipyeong checked the barrage of messages that was indeed from no other than Seo Dalmi.</p>
<p></p><div class="indented">
<p></p><blockquote><p class="">
      <em>It was nice meeting you today.</em>
    </p><p class="">
      <em>Minus the kidnapping of course.</em>
    </p><p class="">
      <em>Thanks for your help though, I owe you one.</em>
    </p><p class="">
      <em>I'm hoping for an opportunity to repay you. Are you craving anything?</em>
    </p></blockquote></div><p class="">Jipyeong sighed as his fingers typed faster than his mind could stop him.</p>
<p></p><div class="indented">
<p></p><blockquote><p class="">
      <em>No need to repay me, you already thanked me and that's more than enough.</em>
    </p></blockquote></div><p class="">After typing something he was sure to regret in the morning, Jipyeong hit "Send" before his other hand could stop him.</p>
<p></p><div class="indented">
<p></p><blockquote><p class=""><em>Sweet dreams, </em>his reply read in the end<em>.</em></p></blockquote><p class=""> </p>
<hr/></div><p class=""> </p><p class="">He woke up the next day with a splitting headache after a night of tossing and turning until dawn, like the networking party was somehow just a fever dream brought about by work-related stress. But his lockscreen was already filled with notifications that he knew it couldn't have been.</p>
<p></p><div class="indented">
<p></p><blockquote><p class="">
      <em>Morning, Mr. Han!</em>
    </p><p class="">
      <em>By the way...</em>
    </p><p class="">
      <em>Do you have Dosan's contact?</em>
    </p><p class="">
      <em>Oh, never mind. He just texted me now.</em>
    </p><p class="">
      <em>MR. HAN I JUST QUIT MY JOB OMFG TT</em>
    </p><p class="">
      <em>HAN JIPYEONG-SSI I'M FREAKING OUTTTT</em>
    </p><p class="">
      <em>WHY DID I DO THAT? WHAT'S WRONG WITH ME?</em>
    </p><p class="">
      <em>Mr. Han?</em>
    </p><p class="">
      <em>Is everything okay? I'm sorry, you must have been busy. I was just so overwhelmed. But I'm all good now, on my way to Dosan's office to ask him what to do to start a company...</em>
    </p></blockquote></div><p class="">Internally screaming as he digested all her texts, Jipyeong checked the time. "Holy crap, it can't be 10 in the morning?" He stumbled out of bed, tripping on his blankets as he dressed up and ran to his car, hair still disheveled as he popped a breath mint and checked his GPS history for Nam Dosan's office location.</p><p class=""> </p>
<hr/><p class=""> </p><p class="">When he arrived at the rooftop office still panting, Jipyeong saw Dosan carrying a potted plant down from the office. "Mr. Han? What brings you here? You disappeared after the party last night, I didn't know you wanted to see me still. Just give me a minute, I'll just take this out."</p><p class="">"What's that?" Jipyeong's eyes were fixated on the money plant.</p><p class="">"Oh, Dalmi was here a while ago, she brought me this to wish me success in business. But I'm pretty sure there really is no correlation between money plants and business success, right? I was planning to..."</p><p class="">"Give it to me," Jipyeong held out his hand, "if you don't want it, I'll take it."</p><p class="">Dosan suddenly hugged the plant, befuddled at the man claiming to be all rationality and cold calculation suddenly begging for a money tree.</p><p class="">"By any chance..."</p><p class="">"Hmm?" Jipyeong was honestly afraid of whatever question was forming in Dosan's mind.</p><p class="">"Something's fishy. You clearly have everything you need. Do you seriously have something you're so desperate for that you're willing to bet your luck on <em>this?</em> I mean, it's just a plant."</p><p class="">"A promotion!" Jipyeong blurted out, "I haven't gotten one in forever. <em>Please,</em> just give me so I can get it."</p><p class="">"Really?" Dosan scratched the back of his head, "Okay, sure." Dosan handed the potted plant to him. "Anyway, do we have anything to talk- Mr. Han?"</p><p class="">Jipyeong had already made a run downstairs back to his car, the money tree securely clutched in his arms, as precious to him as the huge cardboard cheque he used to carry around everywhere as a kid.</p><p class=""> </p>
<hr/><p class=""> </p><p class="">He went back to work despite the turbulence disturbing his once still and peaceful life. Jipyeong tried to distract himself by driving his team even harder than before, clearing a week's worth of deliverables in a day. His phone buzzed again, it was Dalmi's text saying that she was applying for Sandbox's 12th residency program. His brows furrowed at the odds she has to overcome, and replied that she can ask him anything. To his surprise, she didn't.</p><p class="">So he did what he could and asked CEO Yoon if he could be a mentor just for the one-in-a-millionth chance that Seo Dalmi could be accepted. CEO Yoon was surprised to hear he was willing; it wasn't like Han Jipyeong at all to be involved in early-stage startups since he didn't have the patience for rookies. But things were changing too swiftly for him to hold on to whatever image of himself he held. The previous week felt like a lifetime ago, and there was no turning back.</p><p class="">That night, Jipyeong tried to find solid ground amidst the tremors threatening his stability and found it within seconds as he approached Cheongmyeong's Corn Dog stand by the river. When Halmeoni's eyes landed on him with a smile, Jipyeong felt safe and sound again.</p><p class="">He brought her to one of his favorite restaurants and began to vent about everything that had been going <em>wrong</em> in his life since he got involved between Dosan and Dalmi.</p><p class="">"Wait a minute," she pointedly interrupted as her chopsticks slammed on the table. "Why are you being like this?"</p><p class="">Jipyeong glanced at his reflection in the restaurant mirror: his hair was all over the place, shirt buttoned in all the wrong places, and eyebags that could rival the World Wildlife Fund icon. "I can't even sleep these days because of my 15-year old debt... That's why I'm doing this."</p><p class="">"It makes no sense!" Wondeok was having nothing of his bullshit. "We met again less than a month ago, were you losing sleep all this time? You were fine for 15 years, why can't you sleep all of a sudden?"</p><p class="">His excuses rallied with her interrogation that the night didn't seem to have a clear end in sight - a trend he was seeing in his evenings lately. He wasn't winning this argument and he could see it in Halmeoni's face: she wasn't giving this matter up.</p><p class="">How indeed could Han Jipyeong negotiate with so many investors with a trademark poker face but fail to convince an elderly woman who could obviously be scammed by a chain message if she weren't careful?</p><p class="">"Are you being like this... because you have feelings for Dalmi?"</p><p class="">Jipyeong gulped, his head already moving sideways as he prepared to utter a clear <em>no.</em> But he stared at himself again at the mirror behind Halmeoni and knew that his troubles were going nowhere any sooner if he kept up with the pile of lies on his plate. He sat silently and stared right at her; he could lie to the whole world but not to her. He could lie convincingly even to Dalmi, but not to her grandma. She'd see right through him in an instant.</p><p class="">"Halmeoni... I think I'm in trouble," he began as her brows knitted together in worry. "What if I do have feelings for her?"</p><p class=""> </p>
<hr/><p class=""> </p><p class="">The week felt too quiet for Jipyeong, too ordinary that it felt ominous. He checked his phone every few minutes just in case Dalmi sent a question. He'd asked Yeongsil to modify his notifications for his phone to only vibrate if the messages came from <em>Question Bomber</em>, since he'd been scrambling for his phone at every vibration since midnight.</p><p class="">At six in the evening, he was still crouched over a presentation waiting for approval on his desk when his phone buzzed.</p>
<p></p><div class="indented">
<p></p><blockquote><p class="">
      <em>Mr. Han... are you busy?</em>
    </p></blockquote></div><p class="">His fingers scrambled to type <em>no, I have time</em> but another text arrived.</p>
<p></p><div class="indented">
<p></p><blockquote><p class="">
      <em>I'm embarrassed to ask you this TT but I'm kind of nervous...</em>
    </p><p class="">
      <em>It's Dosan's birthday tomorrow, and I have no idea how I should go about it.</em>
    </p><p class="">
      <em>I don't know why I texted you tbh... this just feels like another one of those moments where I'd be talking to myself in a cubicle TT</em>
    </p><p class="">
      <em>Sorry if I'm being a bother.</em>
    </p></blockquote></div><p class="">Jipyeong's eyes widened as he sent a response as fast as he could.</p>
<p></p><div class="indented">
<p></p><blockquote><p class="">
      <em>No youre nto</em>
    </p><p class="">
      <em>nott*</em>
    </p><p class="">
      <em>NOT*</em>
    </p></blockquote></div><p class="">He cursed himself for whatever impulse overcame his usually perfect syntax even over text messaging.</p>
<p></p><div class="indented">
<p></p><blockquote><p class="">
      <em>Seriously, I have the time. Do you want me to come over so we can run through it?</em>
    </p></blockquote></div><p class="">Jipyeong was too preoccupied with everything that was happening that he forgot it was actually his birthday tomorrow. He was surprised at the boldness of his offer, but the nerves caught up to him as he saw the blinking "..." lighting up every few seconds, like Dalmi was typing and backspacing every so often before a response. Did he come on too strongly? Should he have said something different?</p>
<p></p><div class="indented">
<p></p><blockquote><p class="">
      <em>Sure ^^ You can have dinner here! I have a few more questions for you too...</em>
    </p></blockquote></div><p class="">A smile spread through Jipyeong's lips, all the planets in his universe spinning back into their proper orbits as his favorite Question Bomber made her way into his atmosphere once again. He stared at the many books in his office shelf and picked his favorite one, just for old times' sake.</p><p class="">When he arrived, Dalmi ran outside in a comfy sweatshirt and pajamas. He liked seeing her in her element, without the trappings he knew she'd put on to pretend she's someone else. Jipyeong wanted to tell her she looked pretty in comfy clothes, but she grabbed his arm away from the gate swiftly and gave him a quick run-through of the night.</p><p class="">"Mr. Han... thanks for coming over, but I've got to tell you a secret first," she whispered in his ear. "I've never brought any man over to this house, not even Nam Dosan, so my grandma might be a <em>bit</em> surprised to see you. I just told her you're someone from work who wants to convince me not to quit so I felt bad and invited you over," she finished breathlessly. Jipyeong smiled as he nodded; no imagination could whip out a story quicker than Seo Dalmi in a tight spot.</p><p class="">He left his coat in the car to look a bit more casual, a little less <em>Senior Manager</em> like Dalmi wanted her grandma to believe. Jipyeong relented to every request and followed her as she opened the door.</p><p class="">"Halmeoni... he's here," Dalmi said in a tone that tried too hard not to sound excited, but Jipyeong didn't notice as both he and Wondeok froze and blinked in unison.</p><p class="">"Good evening, Ms. Choi. I'm Han Jipyeong," he bowed down so low, biting his tongue for saying Halmeoni's last name out loud. Dalmi was surprised, but Halmeoni yelled before she could even react, making her and Jipyeong jump in surprise.</p><p class="">"Dalmi, what took you so long outside? And you," Halmeoni pointed her finger at Jipyeong. "What decent man stays out that long with a woman outside her house?"</p><p class="">Jipyeong bowed even lower; he had no idea how else to react anyway.</p><p class="">"Halmeoni, it's not like that. Team Leader Han is such a gentleman, he'd never-" Dalmi met Jipyeong's eyes as his head rose, their cheeks turning pink at the undertone implied. "I mean, he's just here to play Go-stop and have dinner; there's absolutely <em>nothing</em> going on between us."</p><p class="">Jipyeong's heart lurched a little at her emphasis,but he knew better than to expect anything at this point. He stayed silent as Wondeok's tone softened, sensing his disappointment. "Is that so? Ah... Jipyeong-<em>ssi</em>, I'm so sorry, please feel at home."</p><p class="">Halmeoni walked over to him and pat him on the back as she led them both to dinner. At Dalmi's request for Dosan's birthday the next day, she'd prepared <em>songpyeon, japchae, </em>and an assortment of Chuseok food.</p><p class="">Jipyeong said "thank you for the food," barely stifling a sob surging up his throat as he gazed at Dalmi with so much affection for remembering everything he'd told her years ago. Halmeoni served everything to him in heaps, making sure he ate well.</p><p class="">She stayed silent over dinner, observing Dalmi and Jipyeong as she pestered him endlessly about her Sandbox application; he answered each of her questions patiently and Wondeok sighed with a tinge of guilt. She could have given them this friendship fifteen years ago when they both needed each other without the deception that haunted them all to this day.</p><p class="">After all, there was nothing in her Good Boy that needed hiding under someone else's name, she wanted to go back in time to assure him that much. The least she could do now was to give them a warm place for fifteen years' worth of catching up, so she rose up to get her deck of Go-stop as the laughter of her two angels filled the entire house.</p><p class="">Jipyeong knew nothing about the game, but they kept playing anyway over fruit skewers and a collective confusion over what actually were the rules. Before they knew it, the clock struck twelve as Jipyeong lost his fourth game in a row to Dalmi; his head bent over in shame that looked <em>adorable</em>, if Dalmi was being honest. Her alarm rang as she picked up her phone to text Dosan.</p><p class="">To his surprise, Jipyeong's phone buzzed.</p>
<p></p><div class="indented">
<p></p><blockquote><p class="">
      <em>Happy birthday ^^</em>
    </p></blockquote></div><p class="">He stared at Dalmi and they both blinked at each other until she realized she'd made a mistake. Still, the accidental sentiment was touching. Jipyeong wanted to tell her the truth - all of it - before the pale glow of tonight's warmth faded and maybe, just maybe, Dalmi wouldn't resent him for it.</p><p class="">"Jipyeong-<em>ssi</em>, it's getting too late. Would you like to sleep over?" Wondeok asked, anticipating what he was going to say.</p><p class="">Jipyeong nodded gently, the question reminding him of a certain thunderstorm where he was offered a home when he only searched for any roof to keep him dry. When he settled into Halmeoni's room using a shirt that used to belong to Dalmi's dad, Wondeok closed the door and sat with him.</p><p class="">"Happy birthday," she hugged him, his tears of bliss finally in free fall. "I'm happy you got to spend it here. Come back every year, okay?"</p><p class="">"Thank you for everything, Halmeoni. I couldn't ask for more," Jipyeong said as he tightened his embrace.</p><p class="">Halmeoni pulled back with a cheeky grin. "Actually, you asked me something I didn't get to answer. <em>What if you do have feelings for Dalmi?"</em></p><p class="">Jipyeong's shoulders sank; he was prepared to be scolded for still feeling what he felt despite Dalmi's budding affections for the <em>real</em> Nam Dosan. Halmeoni held his hand as she went on.</p><p class="">"You know, she used to ask about you too. Not Nam Dosan, her pen pal. She asked about the <em>good boy</em> who was my friend, the good boy who stayed often at the corn dog shop. I didn't tell her anything, but she knows you more than you think. Beats me, she's even more curious now.</p><p class="">So what if you like her? Just do what you've always done; keep being a good boy to her and she'll figure out the truth herself."</p><p class="">Jipyeong cried even harder in Halmeoni's arms as she put a warm blanket over her birthday boy. When he woke up the next morning, Dalmi was already preparing to meet Dosan; dolled up, armed with food containers and the Go-Stop deck. Her face lit up when he saw him walk out the bathroom.</p><p class="">She handed over a set of food containers which were apparently for him too. He muttered a quick thank you and they left the house together; Dalmi politely declined his offer to drive her to Samsan Tech's office.</p><p class="">"Mr. Han..." she called out just as he walked over to his car. "I've got a question I didn't get to ask." She stepped closer and tried to read his eyes, still fresh from crying in Halmeoni's arms the night before. "Where did you get the sneakers you wore during the Networking Party?"</p><p class="">Jipyeong felt like his heart was going to burst; but he held on to Halmeoni's words and his own conviction to be the Han Jipyeong of her present rather than the Nam Dosan of her past. He ruffled her hair playfully, "Ah, Seo Dalmi... you never run out of questions, do you?"</p><p class="">He brushed her bangs back in place with his fingers and quickly scrambled for something from his car's side compartment. It was his favorite book straight from his office shelves. Jipyeong gave it to her, with a card delicately inserted between the pages. "This is my answer for now; just text me if you need anything else."</p><p class=""> </p>
<hr/><p class=""> </p><p class="">Dalmi watched as his car left their alley, the book still pressed onto her chest. She kept it in her bag as she went to celebrate her first love's birthday; more questions littered her mind than answers as she spent more time with Nam Dosan, and her thoughts kept circling back to the book in her bag.</p><p class="">She finally opened it that night when she got home; after Dosan pressed her on what she liked about him and <em>of course</em>, there was nothing from the present yet but his big, comforting hands that she could think of.</p><p class="">Dalmi took the book out carefully and turned on her reading lamp. The card was still tucked inside as a page marker; she memorized the number and read the card. It was the same business card that Jipyeong gave her on the night of the networking party, except he crossed out <del>Senior Manager </del>and neatly scribbled "Never Too Busy For You" with a tiny "P.S. Please just call me Jipyeong ^^"</p><p class="">The butterflies she'd been suppressing in the pit of her stomach finally broke free as Dalmi squealed, falling over the bed. She suddenly remembered she hadn't read his "answer for now" yet. Dalmi picked up the book again, it was called <em>Letters to A Young Poet</em> by a certain Rilke. She flipped it to the page number she noted and read the highlighted text:</p>
<p></p><div class="indented">
<p></p><blockquote><p class="">I want to beg you as much as I can, dear, to be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and to try to love the questions themselves like locked rooms and like books that are written in a very foreign tongue.</p><p class="">Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is... to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer.</p></blockquote></div><p class="">Breathless, Dalmi she read the quote over and over again like he was speaking directly to him. She resisted the urge to check <em>something</em> that tugged at her instinct from the card. For now, this was okay. She wanted to love the questions themselves. To Dalmi, he's Han Jipyeong - never too busy for her - and that much was enough.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I read somewhere once that "what if Jipyeong replied earnestly to Dalmi's 400 questions because he missed writing to her?" and this chapter with their messaging marathons is somehow inspired by that.</p><p>SU has ended (and I barely noticed since I stopped watching since Episode 14) but #ThankYouHanJipyeong. I dedicate this fic to you and the lovely JiDals I've come across on Reddit and Twitter. Your threads have been keeping me sane for the past few weeks; let's give our Jipyeong and Dalmi the ending they truly deserve.</p><p>Apologies for the delay, but I hope you enjoyed this long-ish chapter. Will update more frequently within the week. 🥰</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. dalmi's choice</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>What if Dalmi found out about the letters right after the Hackathon?<br/>Would she have chosen Han Jipyeong as their mentor?<br/>What if she discovered her grandma was in on the lie all along?<br/>Who would Dalmi choose if the truth was laid out in front of her sooner?</p><p>A gut-wrenching rewrite of Episodes 4-6.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Wrote this to the tune of "I'll Stand By You" by Jake Wesley Rogers. :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="">After her unexpected emotional combustion over an innocuous passage, Dalmi hid the book away in the empty shoebox that used to house her Cinderella pumps on the night of the Networking Party. She glanced at the box beside it, her treasured keep of Dosan's letters, in rough shape from years of wear and tear.</p><p class="">She held Dosan's box in her hands, fingers fiddling with the edges until she heard her phone buzz.</p><p class="">Dismissing the warring hopes of whoever the sender was, Dalmi read the message aloud.</p><p class="">"Congratulations, Seo Dalmi. You passed the first screening and are qualified for the Hackathon."</p><p class="">Dalmi screeched, loud enough for the windows in the alley to switch their lights back on and steal a peek. Halmeoni came running to her door not a minute after holding a wooden club, but was met with Dalmi's arms and chants of "I got into Sandbox!"</p><p class="">She started dancing around the room, almost dropping her phone in the middle of her frenzy. Halmeoni held onto her doorknob, sighing in a mix of happiness and concern.</p><p class="">When Dalmi's heart rate returned to normal from the extreme excitement, she tiptoed out of her room for water. Her grandma was surely asleep, she thought, until she heard her speaking with someone. God, perhaps?</p><p class="">"I'm worried she'll fall and get hurt..." Wondeok's voice seeped through the doorway of her room. She wasn't praying, Dalmi realized, when she heard the voice on the other line on speakerphone.</p><p class="">"Dalmi won't get hurt... I'll make sure of it."</p><p class="">Shivers climbed up Dalmi's spine; there <em>can't</em> be too many coincidences with that voice that she thought belonged to a stranger. Not quite, not when Halmeoni kept calling him "Good Boy" over the phone.</p><p class="">The sight of Dalmi awake so early in the morning to join her in church rendered Wondeok speechless. But there she was, crouched down on the pew praying more earnestly than any Catholic battling bankruptcy or a terminal illness.</p><p class="">"Lord, I have a wish..." her granddaughter began.</p><p class="">"Wow, wonders never cease. The Lord is busy," Wondeok dismissed, "He has no time to listen to the prayer of an unfaithful believer like you."</p><p class="">But Dalmi contemplated anyway in silence, luggage in tow. "Lord, send me a companion in my journey."</p><hr/><p class=""><em>Sandbox</em>.</p><p class="">The name itself triggered apprehension in the 399 others in the mile-long queue to the Hackathon entrance, but not to Seo Dalmi to whom the word ignited a feeling long slumbered in the recesses of her childhood memory.</p><p class="">Dalmi gasped as she walked into the auditorium, the scale of her endeavor finally sinking in. <em>This is it</em>. She was lost in a massive crowd that seemed to know exactly their reason to be there. She'd written that hers was a mere image of taking the top-floor elevator but deep down, she carried the memory of her father's long-forgotten aspirations.</p><p class="">Whipping out her phone upon CEO Yoon's instruction, Dalmi noticed an unread message.</p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p class="">
    <em>I'm sure you're a nervous wreck right now, but you can do it.</em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p class="">Heading to work three hours early to finish everything by the time the Hackathon began, Jipyeong was glued to the screen of the live broadcast. He'd gotten a perfect score with the challenge on trends that he mentally solved.</p><p class="">Jipyeong sprang up when his eyes finally landed on Dalmi as she held onto a red CEO shirt onstage with a chosen few. He'd been on the job long enough to see potential before it bloomed, and Seo Dalmi was bursting with it though she barely knew. His promise to Halmeoni wasn't founded only on his relentless willingness to help Dalmi: he knew she wouldn't be hurt because Dalmi already has what it takes - tenacity, adaptability, and the uncanny ability to absorb information as it comes.</p><p class="">Blinking rapidly, Dongcheon couldn't tear his eyes away from his boss as the face he was used to seeing scowl strangely wrinkled into a grin.</p><p class="">"The next two days will be hell," Dongcheon said, his shoulders relaxing. "But not for me, it's not my business. Ah, it was exhausing, stressful, and not at all rewarding. It's awful. Right, Mr. Han? Mr. Han?"</p><p class="">But his boss was already out of sight, together with the black <em>Mentor</em> shirt sitting quietly in the corner of the room.</p><p class=""> </p><hr/><p class=""> </p><p class="">Against his better judgment, Jipyeong found himself again as a wary onlooker from the sidelines on the Hackathon floor. He had a brief encounter with Dalmi and Dosan who, it turns out, were now a team under Samsan Tech.</p><p class="">Scampering back-and-forth in the Sandbox lobby, Jipyeong laid his eyes on Halmeoni in the cafeteria sitting with Mrs. Won. He perked up as he approached, but his steps screeched to a halt when he realized the topic of their conversation.</p><p class="">"Dalmi got into a good university so I sold my corn dog shop to pay her tuition fees," Wondeok's voice shook as she spoke. "As soon as I did that, she dropped out of school and picked up all sorts of part-time jobs to buy me another corn dog truck."</p><p class="">From where he stood, Jipyeong's fists clenched at the harrowing realization at the pains that Dalmi had gone through in large part because of his selfishness. If only he hadn't taken the money away from them; if only he wasn't only thinking of himself and escape, then Dalmi wouldn't have carried the weight of the world on her shoulders.</p><p class="">Biting back his tears, Jipyeong followed Halmeoni outside and bent down to help tie her tattered shoes.</p><p class="">"Why didn't you contact me?" He muttered, unable to meet Halmeoni's eyes. "I could've helped with Dalmi's tuition fees."</p><p class="">Contempt and guilt rising inside him, Jipyeong's voice was shaky as he let out all the things he could've done but didn't.</p><p class="">"Do you have any regrets? Dalmi could have gone to college instead of me."</p><p class="">"I have no regrets, but I do wish things could be different. I always wished I had met you sooner."</p><p class="">His eyes grew heavy with grief as Halmeoni went on about all the things - cards, gimbap, and yelling at his bullies - that she could have done for him too.</p><p class="">"I could never replace your parents, but at the very least I could have been that nosy old lady who lives next door. That makes me a bit sad."</p><p class="">Tears gushed all over his face as Jipyeong walked away; he knew he'd be unable to stop crying if he'd stayed any longer in Halmeoni's company.</p><p class="">It was time for the three-minute pitch, and Jipyeong's resolve grew even stronger as he saw the Samsan Trio outside, clamoring for Dosan to replace their CEO for the pitch. He thought of confronting them to slap their smug faces back into reality that they've achieved nothing at all in two years. But for once, Jipyeong bit back his rage and made a beeline to the one person who needed a piece of his mind.</p><p class="">He found Dalmi, her entire body trembling from the nerves, right outside the waiting room for CEOs. Without missing a beat, he took the bottle from her shaking hands and twisted it open. Dalmi's eyes widened as she found the person she'd been itching to see for the past 48 hours. She hesitated to reach out every single time she had a question, afraid she'd seem like an incompetent CEO in Han Jipyeong's eyes.</p><p class="">"You do know you're the best person for the job, right?" Jipyeong coolly said, handing back the bottle to her and reaching for the paper in her hand. "I'll revise this a little. Is that okay?"</p><p class="">Dalmi barely nodded while Jipyeong uttered suggestions, swiftly writing them down on her pitch board. She glanced up and saw that Jipyeong's eyes were swollen though he tried to hide the crack in his voice.</p><p class="">"Is everything okay?" Dalmi said, her hand almost reaching out for his cheek.</p><p class="">"Of course, don't worry," Jipyeong feigned a grin. "In case you're still nervous, I'll stay somewhere near the stage so just look at me. Okay?"</p><p class="">Flooded with the warmth of his reassurance, Dalmi lifted up her chin with confidence.</p><p class="">"Jipyeong," she said as she caught him smiling at the utterance of his name. "Why do you go out of your way to help me?"</p><p class="">"I, uh-"</p><p class="">"Team Number 17!" a voice called out from the waiting room.</p><p class="">"I'll answer your question after your pitch, okay?" he winked, handing her a couple of gummies before running backstage.</p><p class=""> </p><hr/><p class=""> </p><p class="">After the nerve-wracking pitch and the dispiriting outcome of Chairman Won's spontaneous suggestion, Dalmi wasn't certain if she should feel proud of herself or anxious about the result. All she knew was that she was exhausted, not only by 48 hours of sleepless work but by the sheer amount of effort it took to reconcile her memory of gentle Nam Dosan in the letters with the pen-breaking, cold-shouldered man who'd abandoned her in the lobby when things didn't work out for Samsan Tech in the challenge.</p><p class="">She was supposed to take a quick nap just before the announcement of results, but Dalmi couldn't shake the disquiet overcoming her at the emotional blanks that this Dosan has been drawing since Day 1 of their reunion. She grabbed Chulsan's arm on the way out and pulled him to the side.</p><p class="">"How long does it take to match handwriting using the AI solution?"</p><p class="">Chulsan scratched the back of his head, still mildly annoyed at their CEO. "About two to three minutes, tops. Why, what's the point now?"</p><p class="">"I need to check something. Now," she demanded, sitting him down in the lobby. Searching her bag, Dalmi took out one letter from Nam Dosan that she always carried with her and the diagram that Dosan wrote the day before to explain the solution to her.</p><p class="">Realizing her request, Chulsan hesitated and said he needed to go but Dalmi was adamant. "You said it only takes two to three minutes, right? If we don't get accepted, this is the last thing you can do for me. <em>Please</em>."</p><p class="">Her palms were sweating while waiting. Moments later, Chulsan looked up and shook his head.</p><p class="">"It could be wrong, right? I mean, it's not a 100% accurate?"</p><p class="">Chulsan gulped. "Sure, there's a .2% chance it's incorrect. But just eyeballing it, I know it's not even close."</p><p class="">Dalmi pressed her lips together, her jaw clenching in tremors. <em>It couldn't be. The letters were signed by Nam Dosan.</em> Of course, there was a chance that his handwriting had changed over the course of fifteen years. But Chulsan's downcast figure was telling her enough.</p><p class="">If this much could be true, every other sliver of coincidence held the possibility of meaning more than they seem. She thought back to all the times where her instincts pointed to someone else, when the smallest signs stirred doubt in the certainty contained in a name. The sneakers. The rainbow. <em>Halmeoni</em>. She knew now that the name was no bigger than the man behind it. Dalmi was afraid of the truth, but the uncertainty was already too much to bear and there was no turning back from knowing.</p><p class="">Fighting back her the urge to stop, she took out the pitch board and handed it to Chulsan. "One last thing. Please. This, and the letter."</p><p class="">Jipyeong found Dalmi curled up in one of the bean bags. He sat beside her, careful not to wake her up. But a cursory glance told him she wasn't asleep. Dalmi's body was shaking, and he could hear her faint whimpers from where he was. He reached out his hand by instinct but Dalmi lifted her head and her tearful eyes glared at him with resentment.</p><p class="">"Why did you do it?" Dalmi's bottom lip quivered as she struggled to speak. "Why did you lie?" Her voice was quiet, sounding defeated more than angry, and Jipyeong couldn't find the words to give her the answers she needed. He tore his eyes away from her and bowed; this moment came sooner than he was ready for. Not even a month has passed since he found his family again and now he's about to lose it with frightening finality.</p><p class="">Just as he was about to spit out a feeble apology, Dosan came sprinting towards them in full speed. "Dalmi!" he called out, grinning wide. "We got in, Samsan Tech got into Sandbox."</p><p class="">Silence flooded the lobby as Dalmi made tiny nods, unable to meet Dosan or Jipyeong's eyes. The smile faded from Dosan's lips as the look on Dalmi's face told him everything he needed to know. "Dalmi, I-"</p><p class="">"Congratulations," Dalmi snapped in full volume as she wiped the tears streaming down. "To the both of you, I meant. Congratulations for making a complete fool of me. Impressive work!" She reached out her hands to shake theirs, but both didn't budge in shame.</p><p class="">Her expectations of either trickling down to nothing, Dalmi sprang up to her feet to run home as fast as she could. Dosan dashed forward to catch up to her as Jipyeong stayed motionless in the lobby, watching the pair from a distance.</p><p class=""> </p><hr/><p class=""> </p><p class="">Dalmi slammed the front door so hard that Wondeok knew it could only mean two things: their team had failed to enter Sandbox while Injae got in <em>or</em> what she actually dreads more: that Dalmi found out about the fifteen-year old lie hanging over their heads.</p><p class="">She walked towards her granddaughter, concerned at her disheveled state. "Dalmi, are you okay? Did something happen?"</p><p class="">Having sufficient time to process everything on her long walk home, Dalmi flinched at her grandmother's touch. "Did you know, too?"</p><p class="">Wondeok scanned her face - it was begging for her to say <em>no</em> - but all these years of deceit to protect Dalmi from getting hurt didn't prepare Wondeok for the inevitable. There was no point in trying to hide anything from her anymore.</p><p class="">She nodded feebly and Dalmi's tears flowed anew, stunned at the revelation.</p><p class="">"Am I that pathetic to everyone of you? Was I so pitiful as a kid that it took three of you and fifteen years before you told me everything I believed in wasn't true?"</p><p class="">Dalmi collapsed to the floor, her head between her knees as she choked on her own sobs. Wondeok's heart shattered at the sight; she begged to the high heavens to give her granddaughter strength, and to forgive her for not knowing better.</p><p class="">"I'm sorry, my dear," Wondeok crouched down despite her weakness, crying as she spoke. "I didn't want you to be lonely, so I asked Good Boy to write you letters. But I didn't want you to be hurt when I saw you both so happy..."</p><p class="">Dalmi had stopped resisting her grandma's embrace, but a sharp tinge of anguish came over her as she heard <em>Good Boy</em> from her Halmeoni. "I'm so stupid, thinking so many people could actually care so much for me. Turns out you're all just covering something up."</p><p class="">She caved into Halmeoni's arms as she murmured <em>I'm sorry</em> over and over again in Dalmi's ears. Dalmi couldn't bring herself to resent her grandma. She knew full well why Halmeoni lied, the same reason Dalmi lied to Injae and her mom about starting a company: because they had something to protect. Her reason paled in comparison to her grandma's. Halmeoni lied to protect her, but Dalmi's lie was meant to protect herself.</p><p class="">That night, Dalmi lay beside Wondeok as she cried herself to a restless sleep.</p><p class=""> </p><hr/><p class=""> </p><p class="">Dalmi tapped her feet nervously as she counted to a thousand. It was time for the CEOs to choose their mentors, and her confidence was tremendously shaken by the untimely revelation. Injae stared at her intently with an expression she couldn't read - contempt, confusion, concern?</p><p class="">When it was time, Dongcheon called them in one-by-one. Dalmi had gone after Injae, who looked thoroughly satisfied with her pick while Dalmi was still on the fence with hers.</p><p class="">She entered the room and bowed politely to the panel who were all-smiles except for one whose eyes were fixated on the paper in front of him since Dalmi came in.</p><p class="">"I really enjoyed Samsan Tech's pitch at the Hackathon," CEO Yoon warmly remarked. "Do any of you want to be the mentor of Samsan Tech?"</p><p class="">Alex from 2STO shot his hand up within seconds with a charming smile at Dalmi. To her surprise, Jipyeong beside him slowly put up his hand too, his reddened eyes finally meeting hers, but it was Dalmi's turn to look away.</p><p class="">"I've already decided who I want to be her mentor," Dalmi declared calmly. She shot a glance at Jipyeong and she could see him trying to tell her a million things through his eyes.</p><p class="">"Really, who is it?" CEO Yoon inquired.</p><p class="">"It's of course... Alex Kwon."</p><p class=""> </p><hr/><p class=""> </p><p class="">As doubt in her own capabilities still followed Dalmi like a shadow, she took an early day off from Sandbox and went straight to her grandma's corn dog shop. Wondeok didn't even utter a word as Dalmi put on the apron and tended to the customers with an empty gaze, sniffling every few minutes or so. When they closed the shop, Dalmi asked if she could take a nap inside the truck. Not a minute after she closed the door, Wondeok could already hear Dalmi's dam of sorrow breaking without restraint.</p><p class="">She went on about the demands of the day, calculating their sales from a pile of receipts under a pale light on the table. In the middle of her holding a number to memory, a familiar voice called out from the distance.</p><p class="">"Halmeoni..."</p><p class="">It was, of course, her <em>Good Boy</em> looking every bit as anguished as her granddaughter. Jipyeong's steps were unsure and slow as he debated with himself whether he even had a right to go to this place after what he's done.</p><p class="">"Halmeoni..." he cried out again, his voice cracking as she cupped his face. "I'm so sorry I couldn't keep my promise."</p><p class="">"Did something happen, Good Boy?" her hands were shaking as his eyes released a torrent of tears.</p><p class="">"Don't call me that, I'm not a Good Boy," he shook his head. "I hurt her, Halmeoni. I hurt Dalmi when I promised I wouldn't. I couldn't even pay my debt and now I-"</p><p class="">Halmeoni caressed the back of his head, patting him on the back. She'd never imagined that the two most important people in her life would be running home to her in sorrow not long after they were so happy to find warmth in each other again.</p><p class="">"It's okay, you only did as I told you, you've done nothing wrong," Halmeoni held Jipyeong's face and wiped the tears as they came.</p><p class="">"No, you only told me to write a few letters; it was my fault that it went on for a year," he murmured in shame as Halmeoni pat his back. "I could have stopped it anytime, but I didn't."</p><p class="">Wondeok sighed, sitting him down on the table and pushing the spare corn dog in his direction. "Have you had dinner?"</p><p class="">Jipyeong hesitated but he shook his head anyway. "How's Dalmi holding up?" he inquired cautiously as Wondeok kept motioning the corn dog towards him.</p><p class="">"Eat, then we'll talk."</p><p class=""> </p><p class="">By the time the stick was bare, Jipyeong had already stopped crying. He distracted himself with the receipts, volunteering to calculate for Wondeok.</p><p class="">"Let me ask you this: why didn't you stop anyway?"</p><p class="">Jipyeong's head rose in shock as Halmeoni asked him so nonchalantly, like he wasn't crying in her arms only moments ago. "No, really, why did you keep doing it?"</p><p class="">"I wanted to stop..." Jipyeong cleared his throat. "But the letters comforted me too, they made me excited whenever I thought another one was coming, and I was happy in a way I never knew before then. So you can call me selfish... but I didn't stop because I didn't want Dalmi, our friendship, everything to be taken away from me."</p><p class="">Wondeok held his hand, rubbing his thumb affectionately. "I also have to apologize you know. I never stopped you from using someone else's name."</p><p class="">Jipyeong let out a faint smirk. "We both knew the reason why it had to be Nam Dosan. Dalmi's friend couldn't be a disillusioned orphan who had nothing to his name, and probably more problems than she did. I chose Dosan myself, you know. Because he had everything I didn't, everything Dalmi deserved."</p><p class="">"That's where you're wrong, Good Boy," Halmeoni tsked. "We chose Nam Dosan from the newspapers because he seemed smart, kind, and good-looking. What I didn't realize then was that all of that were also you. You were always all of that, even before this," she finished, gesturing at the expensive clothing Jipyeong wore. "You could have signed all your letters with Han Jipyeong and Dalmi would have treasured them all the same."</p><p class="">Inside the truck, Dalmi was herself caught in a stream of conflicting emotions as she overheard the exchange. She wanted to go out, to curse Jipyeong for rationalizing a fifteen year-old lie, but she remembered the boy from the letters who also needed a friend. Even without the lie, she knew that the special connection between Halmeoni and her Good Boy was genuine and Dalmi couldn't imagine herself driving a wedge between them.</p><p class="">Still, many questions lingered in her mind. Since Jipyeong found her now, was he only helping her because he was atoning for the deception? Or was he still the lonely boy who sought her company with sincerity and empathy? And what about the real Nam Dosan? What happens to them now?</p><p class="">"What do you plan to do now?" Halmeoni's voice echoed from the outside.</p><p class="">Jipyeong faltered. "I don't know, I'll go with whatever Dalmi decides. She can take all the time she needs, I won't get in her way."</p><p class="">Her heart stuck in her throat, Dalmi finally found the answer to her questions.</p><p class=""> </p><hr/><p class=""> </p><p class="">The sun had barely risen when Dalmi quietly shut the gate and made her way to the bus station. It had been a long while since she took this route; it reminded her of the most tragic moments of her life and if it weren't for the epiphany unfolding before her eyes now, the place would always be a living memento of everything she'd lost.</p><p class="">Dalmi boarded the bus with no expectations; she'd never know what was waiting for her there. As soon as she woke up, she already sent the message to both Dosan and Jipyeong:</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p class="">
    <em>You'll know where to find me, I'll be waiting.</em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p class="">Leaning her weight on the bus window, Dalmi drank in all the sights that were different and familiar at the same time. She transferred to another bus and after what felt like the longest ride of her life, she'd reached the stop near her grandma's former corn dog shop, unaware of whoever was waiting for her there.</p><p class="">Just as Dalmi alighted, she took out a coin and tossed it in the air - heads for Nam Dosan and tails for Han Jipyeong. The moment before it landed on the back of her hand, it was clear to Dalmi who she was hoping to see.</p><p class="">And indeed, Dalmi took a step forward at the man who held the letter she wrote only months ago in his hands, the same hands who'd written to her fifteen years ago. His head rose, pained uncertainty written all over him. Dalmi froze as their eyes met. She waited for the livid fury to engulf her but all she found at the sight of Han Jipyeong beside her beloved birdbox was relief. And gratitude to the universe that it was him and not anyone else.</p><p class="">Jipyeong folded the letter and placed it in his pocket, bracing himself to kneel before Dalmi for forgiveness. Before his knees met the pavement, Dalmi sprang up and wrapped her arms around him. "I'm happy it's you," Dalmi breathed into his chest as he pulled her closer. Whatever doubt still remained within them melted away. In its wake was nothing but two lonely souls who found each other again in the place where it all began.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I knowww, it was painful for a good chunk of the chapter, but I'll come back with more happy JiDal moments, I promise.</p><p>I appreciate all the thoughtful comments, you all are warming my hearts so much. I planned out the chapter outlines for the rest of the fic, so you can count on me finishing this fic with a JiDal endgame (but the course of true love never did run smooth, right?)</p><p>... Also, I *may* be writing the next chapter with a bit of sexy times? Hence, the Eventual Smut tag I just added.</p><p>See you soonest, loves! 🤗</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. 461 questions</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>What if Jipyeong's greatest weakness consumes him as Dalmi tries to hold him close?<br/>What if Dalmi stays true to her choice and outsmarts him in a bargain?<br/>What if when his walls finally come crashing down after some time?<br/>What happens when they spend a night at his place before Demo Day?</p><p>Delicious angst, a bit of fluff, and smut-lite rewrite of Episodes 7-10.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Song rec: <em> Someone to Stay </em> by Vancouver Sleep Clinic <a href="https://open.spotify.com/track/7tMbZ0RGW0jFsBw7ipEPEV?si=9KaRRTQ7StaqsAd3PKzo9Q">here</a></p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>If the world ceased spinning at the exact moment their bodies met in embrace, not one soul would hear reproach from Seo Dalmi. Her head rested completely still on his chest as she basked in the afterglow of meeting him thrice in one lifetime.</p><p>The first was an elaborate fiction, a web so intricate that escape itself was a painful ordeal. But she knew better now: that she wasn't the only one trapped in the maze and scarred by the truth. The boy from the letters, too, had to live in the dark of never knowing that <em>Nam Dosan</em> was merely an empty placeholder for the gaping hole that her childhood love left, for lack of anything else to hold on to.</p><p>The second time, Team Leader Han was the enigmatic stranger with a knack for the unexpected – a bathroom promise, a getaway car, a buzzer-beating helping hand before her pitch. Above all else, he was a forbidden line that couldn't be crossed,. Mr. Han was a danger zone with an overwhelming gravitational pull that had her falling faster than her reason was willing to admit.</p><p>In her arms now was the third: an infinite prism whose surface she'd barely scratched. Han Jipyeong wasn't <em>just</em> the wrong face to a name or a sharp-tongued venture capitalist who was never too busy for her. He was her grandma's Good Boy, the lone occupant of a cold-floored corn dog stand who kept the gray sneakers for fifteen years, a lost boy who had to learn how to survive in the frigid winter of solitude for far too long.</p><p>She was only beginning to know him but no longer was she crippled by the fear that she knew too little to be sure of her choice. In the face of everything she was yet to know, Seo Dalmi was flooded with the certainty of holding her familiar stranger even closer.</p><p> </p><p>To her surprise, Jipyeong loosened his grip, his strong arms falling sidewards as he took a step back. Since he received her message, he made up his mind to come to their old rendezvous point only to kneel and make sure that Dalmi wasn't going to make the same mistake twice - trusting him foolishly when he was inevitably bound to cause her pain like he did with the fifteen-year old ruse.</p><p>He thought he was fight fortune itself when he saw her again but he was merely overwhelmed. He'd forgotten who he was – a selfish coward who'd never truly known love to deserve an ounce of it. Jipyeong came with one goal in mind: to tear down the fairytale in her imagination and tell Dalmi the bitter truth: that the lie was beautiful because it allowed him to hide parts of himself that he wouldn’t want her to live with.</p><p>The risks were too steep with no certainty of a decent payoff; she was too young, brimming with too much potential to feel obliged to stay with him out of pity.</p><p>Jipyeong gently pulled away and watched as the corners of Dalmi's mouth drew downwards from a blissful smile. Refusing to meet her eyes, he cleared his throat to suppress the growing mass of torment seizing him entirely.</p><p> </p><p>"I only came here to say sorry," he sharply laid his cards down as Dalmi stared at him with a knowing gaze that reminded him too much of Halmeoni on the same day he flatly accused her of stealing his money. "I lied because I could, even if I knew it would hurt you in the end. I took advantage of you. I'm not who you think I am and I should just go-" he struggled to speak as a single tear gushed down his cheek.</p><p>"Shh, stop it," Dalmi's voice came out calmer than she expected. She reached out to cup his cheek but Jipyeong stopped her midway. "Jipyeong," she muttered gently as he let go of her wrist and she wiped his tear with her thumb. "Listen to me, okay?"</p><p>"Didn't you say you still have debt to pay?" Jipyeong slowly met her eyes as she spoke with so much certainty that he was scared he'd cave in instantly.</p><p>"You still have to pay me back, you know, for taking away the experience of a real first love," Dalmi continued unhurriedly as she caught his attention. "Decide if you still want to leave after you do."</p><p>"How could I possibly-"</p><p>"Four hundred and sixty one questions. Answer them all to pay me back," she finished with a faint exhale as he scanned her eyes for the catch. But there was none.</p><p>Four hundred was just a top-of-mind number, enough for a week perhaps.</p><p>Sixty was the number of steps she took up the subway to Sandbox station</p><p>And one was the choice her heart had set on that morning with the help of a hundred-won coin.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Eerie silence followed their long drive back to Seoul. Dalmi stole a glance every now and then but Jipyeong's eyes were fixed on the empty highway ahead. Their breakfast-deprived stomachs growled in unison, disrupting the tension hanging in the air as he eyed her for the first time.</p><p>"Are you hungry?" Dalmi smiled.</p><p><em>One down</em>, Jipyeong noted as he slowed down the car at the sight of a <em>guksu</em> stopover nearby.</p><p>He was close to finding another place when the owner told them every other menu item was out except for pine nut <em>guksu,</em> and Jipyeong was not in the mood for the unfamiliar at the moment. Dalmi grabbed him by the wrist, pulling him through the door with all her strength.</p><p>"Two orders of pine nut <em>guksu</em>, please!" Dalmi's chirpy voice bounced across the walls of the hollow restaurant as they settled on a table by the window. She was astonished at how well she's taking this; she could imagine an equally plausible scenario when he'd be forward and her, reticent as he is now. But she knew well enough too that he would have exactly the same patience with her silence if the tables were turned.</p><p>She took their orders from the tray as he cautiously watched, like a stray kitten deciding if a stranger would offer him food once before leaving forever. <em>He does look like a kitten</em>, Dalmi noticed as she giggled to herself. She took out the chopsticks and mixed his bowl before placing it in front of Jipyeong.</p><p>"Dig in, before the noodles get soggy."</p><p>Dalmi thought he'd keep staring at her for eternity, but he quickly picked the bowl up to take a sip. Despite the effort it took to put on a blank expression, it only took seconds for his dimples to show as the taste overpowered whatever front he was putting up. Dalmi snorted, amused at the spectacle. Who knew the way to Han Jipyeong's heart is through his noodles? No one before her, perhaps, and Dalmi was happy she'd found out that little shortcut.</p><p> </p><p>"How are things with Alex?" Jipyeong asked as they hit the road once again.</p><p>Dalmi was surprised he started the conversation, but there was no moment to waste.</p><p>"Objectively, I have no idea how we're doing. When I go to him to consult on something, he just says <em>good job</em> and then proceeds to ask Dosan nitty-gritty technicals as if Saha and I are not even in the room. You know I would have chosen you as our mentor if I wasn't so petty and childish," Dalmi tapped her head on the window.</p><p>"That's exactly why you're right not to choose me," Jipyeong said as Dalmi braced for another self-deprecating comment. "It's a fatal mistake to mix personal matters with business."</p><p>"Why, what about us is so personal that it could affect business?" Dalmi perked up.</p><p>He swallowed hard, choking on his own words. "Careful. You're wasting your second question on that?"</p><p>"I'm serious. You're far more helpful, you care so much about Samsan Tech than he does, and you're way more straightforward, a good kind of nosy..."</p><p>He couldn't help the gush of warmth simmering inside him from the flood of compliments. "Well..." Jipyeong began, failing to resist the urge to overstep his bounds yet again. "You can always spend your questions by consulting me."</p><p>"<em>Riiiight,"</em> Dalmi nodded enthusiastically, realizing how exactly both she and Samsan Tech could benefit from this ridiculous arrangement. "Good thing I know where your office is."</p><p>Jipyeong bit his own tongue as it hit him that offering his help was a trap, but he fell right into it anyway. His only hope now would be that Question Bomber would burn through her quota before she knew it.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>An entire month passed and she was barely at the two-hundredth mark. Jipyeong set up every device in his arsenal: Yeongsil was present at every meeting to count questions for him after training the AI to recognize Dalmi's voice in a split-second; written, texted, and emailed questions were counted the same way; and even questions like "how are you?" weren't given a free pass.</p><p>Seo Dalmi, it turns out, was much craftier than he was. She once told Dongcheon she lost his email address so she dictated her questions via phone call and Jipyeong received lengthy Q and A emails from Dongcheon about <em>burn rates</em> and <em>networking.</em> At some point, Dongcheon got fed up with the arrangement and answered her inquiries himself. Which Jipyeong thought was a win for him, until he realized it gave Dalmi space for questions like "can we have dinner together?" or "can you come over?"</p><p>They met even more frequently than Dalmi did with Alex, than he did with Angel Eyes – his real mentees. Little by little, Dalmi uncovered cracks and crevices in the walls Jipyeong painstakingly took years to build. Not a week later than hitting her 250th question, Dalmi finally found the contrarian she knew, back to sitting smug inside his office as she fought her hardest to convince him that NoonGil was a worthwhile venture for Samsan Tech.</p><p>"I like this version of you better," she said, interrupting his monologue about the ratio between users to costs. "The version of you who's not walking on eggshells."</p><p>"Nice try," he said, putting the pen to his lip. "Are you trying to distract me from shooting down a business model that's bound to fail?"</p><p>"No, I'm just saying I like your honesty."</p><p><em>Damn it.</em> Jipyeong closed his eyes, unable to hold back the widest grin he'd let himself in months.</p><p>"And your smile," Dalmi added, reaching out to run her fingers gently through his bangs. "It looks good on you. It makes me happy when I see it.</p><p> </p><p>Her words left an indelible mark in his muscle memory that he couldn't stop smiling even when he lay awake at night, thinking back to all their conversations over the past couple of weeks.</p><p>He smiled even wider at his favorite coincidence: when the Sandbox elevator would swing open and reveal Seo Dalmi, as if the universe were somehow teasing the flicker of hope that they stood a chance.</p><p> </p><p>Sometimes he let himself believe that they do have a chance, rare moments when her heedless courage was enough to shoot down every soldier of doubt still standing within him.</p><p>The first time, Dalmi stubbornly followed an investor deep into the Gapyeong countryside. Said investor was kind enough to call him swiftly, being the only person she knew in Sandbox. After violating close to twelve speed limits in a rush to Gapyeong, Jipyeong finally found her – shoe covered in cow dung no less – and noticed her exhausted frustration from scuttling around uninterested investors. Dalmi was close to tears as she narrated every wild goose chase and keeping cost-related issues to herself for fear of burdening their teammates even more.</p><p>"It's shitty, I know, but you're doing well," his hand instinctively seizing hers and intertwining their fingers with a gentle squeeze. Before Dalmi could react, he was already lowering her seat. "Sleep, I know you're tired." He smiled the whole way home as Dalmi clung onto his hand like she was never going to let go.</p><p> </p><p>The second, he found Dalmi crying on the Sandbox rooftop right after meeting with Morning Group's Chairman Won. She was speechless, her entire body shaking with rage and shock at what turned out to be a violent encounter with Dosan in tow. Dalmi struggled to find words, yet managed to assure him in broken sentences that she recorded the whole thing like he advised.</p><p>He wanted to yell at Dalmi, to knock some sense into her that no sound file was more important than her own welfare, that she should have walked out as soon as Chairman Won mentioned her father. But Jipyeong chose to wrap his arms around her, all caution fleeing as he whispered "<em>it's okay</em>" into her hair and held her by the small of her back. It dawned on him that there was no way he could spare her from heartbreak; the best he could do in this life was to be there when she fell.</p><p> </p><p>And fall she did, over and over until a crying Dalmi no longer caused Jipyeong panic but was just another story they laughed about once she recovers. She's a tough one, Seo Dalmi. When she did win, his entire world lit up like the eve of a Lunar New Year. When Dalmi finally outsmarted Chairman Won, she was on cloud nine that she invited him out for <em>bibim guksu</em> and karaoke, then danced all the way home in a daze.</p><p>Jipyeong had never seen her this elated, limbs flying everywhere, even pulling his hands for a spontaneous samba. Because of the noise they made, the neighbors turned on the evening radio and the alley was flooded by a 80s ballad that they had to slow down into a waltz. Jipyeong was terrible at it that Dalmi kept looking at his two left feet. But his gaze was stuck on her smile, on the way she pouts when he steps on her by accident.</p><p>His heart beating louder as the song faded into silence, Jipyeong closed what little distance remained between them with a kiss. Dalmi’s eyes fluttered close, her hand settling on his nape as she kissed him back, longer and deeper than the chaste first kiss he’d imagined.</p><p> </p><p>From the patio, Wondeok waited for her granddaughter to enter the gate after hearing familiar squeals from the living room. Her faltering vision struggled to separate the pale glow of the streetlights from the traipsing shadows beneath them but she could tell from a distance that it was without a doubt her two angels.</p><p>“Yeongsil,” Wondeok whispered into her phone as she pointed it towards them. "What do you see now?"</p><p>"A man and a woman who look like a couple are dancing on an empty street. And they look... happy."</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>"You call <em>that</em> a good pitch? I don't think so..."</p><p>"Four hundred and forty," Yeongsil droned on mechanically while Dalmi and Jipyeong were slouched over his couch, watching a past-midnight rerun of <em>Shark Tank</em> in his flat on the eve of Demo Day. He dreaded the prospect of Dalmi's presence in his living space, but he couldn't say no to a "sleepover" as Halmeoni called it the night before when he heard Dalmi was taking anxiety pills to cope with Samsan Tech's day of reckoning.</p><p>"Seriously, you're gonna count that?" Dalmi sneered at Yeongsil, shaking her head at the pointlessness of the tally at this point. She had been on edge about her presentation, and Jipyeong had been giving her tips and sample questions since that afternoon. The only thing left to do was to distract her enough to get some rest before morning.</p><p>But his idea of relaxation – <em>Shark Tank</em> over four bottles of soju – apparently wasn't helping. Neither was the fact that his arm was stretched out over her shoulder and her back, firmly pressed onto his chest that his mere breathing sent tingles down her spine.</p><p>"Four hundred and forty-one," Yeongsil followed suit.</p><p>Dalmi fumed, planning the perfect projectile for a throw pillow to hit the device. "Hey, calm down," Jipyeong snickered. His thumb drew small circles on the edge of Dalmi's shoulder, briefly brushing on bare skin from her half-open jacket.</p><p>"Okay, you know what, we're pretty much done so let me put my last twenty to good use," she turned her head to see him eye-to-eye, shutting off the TV with the remote. She scrambled for her duffel bag on the floor as she took out the tiny mood lightbulb that was so popular at Samsan Tech.</p><p>"What's this?" Jipyeong was incredulous as Dalmi slipped the thing onto his pointer finger.</p><p>"Something I trust with my whole heart," she snapped, patience wearing thin at the elephant in the room still unaddressed after their clandestine kiss in the alley. "Yeongsil, can you please count quietly until I'm on my last three?"</p><p>"Understood, Ms. Seo."</p><p>"Since when do you give Yeongsil orders?"</p><p>"<em>Ya!</em> I'm the one asking questions here," her voice sounded like a preschool teacher lecturing a five-year old.</p><p>"Okay, ready when you are." Jipyeong hooked their fingers together with his free hand and began to caress the back of her hand with his thumb. Deep inside, he was trembling in apprehension. </p><p>"Stop-" Dalmi's breathing hitched as he withdrew his hand, compelling her to grab it back. Jipyeong rapidly blinked in confusion.</p><p>"God, I feel like I'm getting a heart attack."</p><p>"Dalmi, I already told you your pitch is good to go..." Jipyeong whispered, unaware of the storm slowly building strength inside her.</p><p> </p><p>Dalmi pulled his hand to her heaving chest, right on top of her heart felt like it could explode any second. "It's not the pitch... that's making me nervous right now." The weight of her words dawning on him, the bulb on his finger lit up blue. His surprise didn't even last a second as Dalmi scooted closer to him.</p><p>"Why did you kiss me that night?"</p><p>The lump in his throat was a boulder now, but he made a promise and there was no backing down now. "Because I like you. I have feelings for you."</p><p>Struggling to maintain composure at a loss for words, Dalmi tried to savor every single drop of his calm, collected confession. She was sure she could feel her heart thumping in their intertwined hands. Jipyeong was shy now, not at all expecting to blurt out his feelings like that. Vulnerability was never his strongest suit and having Dalmi's doe eyes locked on his made the bulb on his finger malfunction, reversing between blue to white in milliseconds.</p><p>"Can I ask you something too? Why me?" Jipyeong asked cautiously, eyes darting everywhere before looking down, reminiscent of his countenance at the bird box.</p><p>"Because it's you..." Dalmi began, realizing she'd never once tried to put words into her feelings for him, feelings that were impossible to capture with a mere utterance. But it was Han Jipyeong who'd patiently answered all of her curiosities that his one question was at least worth a response.</p><p>Holding his hand tighter, the words came out of her naturally like they'd been there, at rest in her mind, all along. "No, it's more than that. I like you... because you made my heart flutter even though I thought you weren't the boy from the letters. You say things the way they are, not just what I want to hear. You're my Halmeoni's good boy, and she always smiles when I mention your name. You're cute when you slurp your noodles. Thinking of you keeps me awake at night-"</p><p> </p><p>The bulb fell to the floor as Jipyeong's lips crashed onto hers, drawing their entwined hands to the side as he climbed on top of her. Doubt or guilt be damned; even fortune itself was no match for the surge of fearlessness that her words lent his feeble heart. It was enough that she saw her far more than the shadow of the past that followed him for Jipyeong to take a swing at fickle fate. Seo Dalmi was, and always will be, the Achilles' heel who held the power to steer his heart with abandon, to sail off without a map as long as it meant coming home to her.</p><p>He bent her head back and kissed her with the utmost gentleness betrayed only by the heat building downwards in the pit of his stomach. But Dalmi was in no mood for gentle; not after there were finally words to her feelings, not after the rest of those words were taken away from her by his soft mouth. She knotted her fists on his shirt to pull him even closer, a low grunt escaping his throat as his entire weight pressed on her body. Dalmi smiled against his lips at the ticklish sensation of his nibbling, but she'd had enough of teenybopper pleasantries.</p><p>Jipyeong was careful but she'd forgotten all care in the world as she slightly parted her lips to grant him access. Quick-witted as always, he took the lead as their tongues danced the same waltz they did in the alley. But this was no longer the innocuous peck of weeks past. Dalmi's fingers threaded through Jipyeong's hair, her hands leaving wrinkles through the back of his shirt while his fingers trailed downwards, fiddling with the buttons on her blouse.</p><p>"Dalmi," he interrupted breathlessly, their foreheads still pressed together. "Just tell me if you want me to stop."</p><p>But his eyes were darker than Dalmi had ever seen them as he stared at her with ravenous intensity.</p><p>"<em>God</em>, no," Dalmi swore before she peppered kisses along the contours of his face, the dimples she adored so much and the spot where his neck met his broad shoulders as he sighed in pleasure. If her body kept wriggling below him like that, Jipyeong was sure he wouldn't last any longer. So he took matters into his own hands, quite literally, by lifting himself on top of her by the elbow and unbuttoning her blouse. Dalmi's doe eyes were fixed on his hands, her lips enticingly swollen.</p><p>"Jipyeong, <em>ahh</em>" she cried out as his cold fingers made their way inside her bra. Her head tilted sideways as Jipyeong's lips found her neck, planting little kisses upward until he reached her earlobe. "Dalmi, <em>fuck</em>, you're so delicate."</p><p><em>Delicate</em> was not the word Dalmi expected but it was Han Jipyeong, after all, who had the perfect words to any moment. Any thoughts she had left on vocabulary were soon replaced by a jolt of pleasure from his fingers adeptly touching her peaks. Dalmi kissed him again, interrupted only by the vibrations of her suppressed moans on his lips.</p><p>Feeling bolder, Dalmi hoisted her blouse off completely along with his and threw their shirts all the dining table.</p><p>"Holy shit," Jipyeong was breathless, staring at the velvet lace. "This is <em>not</em> how I imagined it," he teased before his lips found her collarbones.</p><p>"Okay, two questions," Dalmi managed amidst the tingles engulfing her entire body. "First, good or bad way?"</p><p>"The best," he gasped, a smile playing on his lips between kisses.</p><p>"And second, you <em>imagined</em> this?"</p><p>Jipyeong laughed into her neck, reddening from the ill-timed reveal. "Every <em>damn</em> night since we met again..." his rasping whisper came out before sucking tenderly on her earlobe. Fireworks were setting off inside her, much more vibrant and maddening than they saw along the Han River bridge. She arched her back and realized it was impossible now to ignore the firm sensation pressing on her navel.</p><p>"You know, I did too," her voice in a faint gasp. "Imagine you, us like this..."</p><p>"What?"</p><p>"Huh?"</p><p>"What?"</p><p>"Shut up and come here, Han Jipyeong."</p><p>Dalmi's head cocked forward and caught his mouth again for a dizzying kiss, her hand trailing downwards as she teased on the edge of his belt buckle.</p><p>With his head buried in the crevice of her chest, Jipyeong's breath staggered as her fingers slowly unbuckled his belt. "Dalmi, wait."</p><p>Dalmi stopped moving as he noticed the change of his tone. Jipyeong moved on top of her again until their eyes leveled with one another. "We can't..." he whispered despite the protests of every other inch of his body, taking her hand gently from his waist.</p><p>Her cheeks filled with a deep crimson flush. "Why? Don't you want this?"</p><p>His hand made its way onto the small of her back, guiding her posture upwards until they were both back to sitting on the couch. "I want you so, <em>so</em>, much." His body faltered from the absence of her warmth, but Jipyeong continued nonetheless, holding onto every bit of self-control.</p><p>Slowly, his fingers loosened wisps of her hair and tuck them behind her ear before eyeing the bottles strewn across the floor. "But not now, not when you've had this much <em>soju</em>, not when you still have Demo Day in a few hours."</p><p>Seeing his hair all mussed up and the rest of him <em>definitely</em> aching for them not to stop, Dalmi couldn't help but wrap her arms around his bare chest in a mix of embarrassment and appreciation. True enough, her heart thumped in her chest again at the reminder of the looming D-Day. "Thank you, though," she muttered quietly.</p><p>"For what?"</p><p>"You've taken care of the other half of my nerves," she said, her bare skin trying to take in as much warmth as she could.</p><p>Jipyeong pulled away from the embrace and raised an eyebrow. "So all I had to do to make you less nervous was <em>that</em>? Tsk. If I knew, I would have kissed you already in the bathroom of the networking party."</p><p>Dalmi chuckled, silently admiring the crinkles in his eyes as he sank back into the cushion and closed his eyes. "Let's try to get some rest before sunrise, okay?" Nodding, Dalmi bent down to kiss his cheek.</p><p>"I'll take the bed. Good night, dear," Dalmi pat his head softly and took a blanket from the bedroom to cover him. She noticed a poor Yeongsil covered with their clothes. After putting on her blouse, Dalmi took the device to the bedroom with her and placed it on his bed stand.</p><p>Clearing her throat, she began as the device lit up in instant recognition of her voice. "Yeongsil..."</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>In the morning, Dalmi was eager to leave to have an early meeting with Samsan Tech even as Jipyeong reasoned that the others were most likely not at Sandbox yet. But Dalmi had an unrelenting fire in her eyes that not even his pouting face could make her stay for breakfast. Not that breakfast was any more inviting, either, as his attempt at pancakes were mistaken for chocolate cookies... flavored with liquid smoke. Jipyeong realized that Dalmi was just being polite by insisting to go. He planted a kiss on her forehead as he held her by the waist, the other hand on the door knob.</p><p>"You'll do great, for sure. Just remember what I told you: once you obsess over the scale, you'll feel pressured. Put aside all the pressure. Step on stage with confidence."</p><p>"Fighting, my Nervous Wreck!" he teased as she briefly stole a kiss and ran out the building.</p><p>On his way to Sandbox, the events of the morning caught up to him and Jipyeong realized he'd forgotten to tell Dalmi the most important piece of information to calm her nerves. After sprinting to the entrance, he caught Dalmi's shadow at the corner of his eye. He slammed onto Team Samsan Tech as he tried to chase after her.</p><p>"Where are you going?" The two Sans physically blocked his way with their arms wide-open.</p><p>"I have something to tell Ms. Seo," Jipyeong attempted to reason.</p><p>"Tell us instead, we'll relay every single word," they insisted, forming a human barricade around him. Jipyeong sighed but there was no time for childish annoyance at such a crucial moment.</p><p>"Tell her this. I'll be her Plan B, so she doesn't need to be nervous," he gulped, taking in their threatening gazes a sign that there was a huge chance his message wasn't going to be passed along at all.</p><p>Trying to rid himself of frustration, Jipyeong decided to speak with CEO Yoon on the conduct of the Demo Day panel. Just he was about to close the Sandbox elevator, a visibly sullen Yongsan entered alongside him. A sigh barely escaping his lips, Jipyeong tried to reason out that he wasn't following Dalmi. But Yong-san told him Dalmi wasn't the reason for his being there.</p><p>"What you said earlier was really cool. That you'll be Ms. Seo's Plan B. It was so reassuring."</p><p>"I didn't say that to hear a compliment from you," Jipyeong cut him off before the sappy speech would bleed his ears dry.</p><p>"You're such a kind and generous man. Why were you so harsh on my brother?"</p><p>Jipyeong's ears perked up. "Brother?"</p><p>"Tell me. Why did you kill my brother?"</p><p>Nothing more preposterous had ever occurred in Jipyeong's life. Getting accused of murder on a goddamned elevator by a guy who passed him by in the hallways of Sandbox far too frequently to be coincidental? "That's absurd," he finished off with a laugh.</p><p>Yongsan didn't find it absurd at all, apparently, that soon enough Jipyeong's back was pressed on the metal walls with a thud as Yongsan forcefully pinned him by the collar. His brief, uneventful life – save for that morning with Dalmi, <em>god</em> – flashed before his eyes, until the elevator doors flung open and revealed a stunned Dongcheon. Jipyeong had never been happier to see his assistant but he was gone in an instant, sprinting towards his office computer.</p><p>He grabbed his chair, pleading to the high heavens that it wasn't what his gut was telling him. But his instinct was rarely wrong. True enough, It wasn't this time.</p><p>Hands shaking, he stumbled upon the profile and did a quick Google search on the name. Kim Dongsu. An obituary. Han River bridge. Body recovered from drowning.</p><p>A sudden flare of nausea engulfed his senses, knocking all the air out of his lungs, until the only thing running in his mind was a broken string of words...</p><p>"<em>I'm a fucking monster.</em>"</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>One of the reasons why I can't leave JiDal to canon is because of the biggest writing tragedy in the dramaverse: not only is PHR wasting a 15-year love story, but also leaving unexplored the potential conflicts in a Jipyeong-Dalmi relationship stemming from their richly-written individual backstories. Imagine if we got 6 episodes of that instead?</p><p>I had a great time writing this chapter from exploring those conflicts. We got smut-lite in this chapter already but if you noticed, I bumped up the rating from M to E... for the next chapter. They still have unfinished business, right? ;)</p><p>Again, I really appreciate the thoughtful comments and how we're all healing together. Hugs to you all! We still have a couple more bumpy paths to take before reaching endgame.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. surrender</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>What if Dalmi was there for Jipyeong at the exact moment he needed her?<br/>What if she used her very last question to ask for more than he thought he was willing to give?<br/>What if they opened up their hearts, sins, souls to each other with abandon?</p><p>Episode 11 rewrite: touching hurt/comfort, followed by gratuitous smut.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>No other than <em>Take Me to Church</em> by Hozier on repeat for this chapter (<a href="https://open.spotify.com/track/3dYD57lRAUcMHufyqn9GcI?si=_3g1_dGHTkiHU0eDcxZpwA">x</a>). Trust me, you won't regret it.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Han Jipyeong met the realtor for his Han River apartment, there was one thing the latter emphasized that the brochures never mentioned.</p><p>"The walls are a 100% soundproof. Even if you die screaming or kill someone in here, the entire building won't hear a peep."</p><p>At his raised eyebrow, the realtor lowered his glasses with a chuckle. "Trust me, there <em>have</em> been instances."</p><p> </p><p>Two years later, said apartment was awash in eerie silence, bathing in a single breach of light from the slim spot where the blackout curtains parted. Han Jipyeong lay awake, tossing and turning in his king-sized bed as he thought of calling the realtor. Should his moribund carcass add to the math of outrageous stories to tell prospective clients?</p><p>It won't take much longer, if his deliberate inertia were any indication. Sharp pangs in his stomach reminded him that his hunger strike was nearing twenty-two hours. <em>At least Gandhi had a reason to starve himself</em>, he thought with his throbbing head still plopped between pillows. No amount of physiological signals could force him upright, not like there was any point to it anyway.</p><p>Any counterpoint his mind used to handily conjure to rationalize survival had been peeled away by the accusing gaze of Kim Yongsan. <em>Kim Dongsu. </em>At the vivid flashes – of the name, the face, and the shaking voice of the boy – Jipyeong bit his tongue and blood gushed out, a painful reminder that he was still alive and Kim Dongsu wasn't.</p><p>The pounding in his temples intensified, his head spinning in a flurry of mental images of wide-eyed novices who left his office either in tears or with a look in their eyes that killed all hopes of making it in a cutthroat world. When he was taking his MBA, Jipyeong earned a nickname from his American colleagues. They called him a <em>dealer –</em> neither of drugs nor poker cards – but of bitter pills that needed swallowing for anyone to remain afloat in business.</p><p>Han Jipyeong had forgotten that <em>bitter</em> was an unpleasant taste for most people. To someone who's been dealt the same pills his entire life beyond his choosing, the pills he dealt to people around him all looked the same. He swallowed all the doses of reality that fortune doled out without anyone asking if he was okay, alive, or happy. How was he to know the difference between honesty for the sake of survival and the kind that ends lives?</p><p>
  <em>I like your honesty.</em>
</p><p>Echoes of her voice seared through his splitting headache like the lone shard of light in the room.</p><p>Seo Dalmi, who never tore her gaze from him. The sharp tongue that put a distance between him and anyone in the world made someone as kind and idealistic like Dalmi choose him. <em>God, if she only knew the monster behind the mask.</em> He shouldn't have held her hand, kissed her, nestled in her warmth. He shouldn't have. He shouldn't.</p><p> </p><p>He had gotten used to an entire night of white noise in his head that the faint sound of his phone's vibration blasted in his ears like stepping in an ice-cold lake by accident in the middle of winter. But his caller was insistent, five unanswered rings and still not dropping. Even without checking the caller ID, he knew who it was. And Jipyeong owed her the entire world that picking up was way below the bare minimum.</p><p>"Hello," his voice was gruff, much worse than he'd practiced.</p><p>"Jipyeong... I heard you took a sick day off." She sounded cautious, reserved, worried. Didn't Demo Day go well?</p><p>"Ah..." he almost began another charade before he caught himself. "Wasn't feeling too well since yesterday. Why did you call? Did you need anything?"</p><p>"Why are you talking so formally? Is everything okay?" Dalmi began to sense the tremor in his tone.</p><p>"I... I'm feeling better now, don't worry," he tried his best to keep his voice from cracking.</p><p>"Han Jipyeong..." Dalmi's voice shook before a long beep, hanging up on him.</p><p>Jipyeong sank back into his blankets, his head throbbing even harder after the call. Dalmi <em>should</em> be happy, over the moon over Samsan Tech's victory at yesterday's Demo Day. Dalmi should be with her team now, celebrating over drinks or planning the next big step for Samsan Tech. But instead, Dalmi texted him she's on her way with a typo, which probably means she's out of breath running in and out of subway stations to get there as fast as she could.</p><p>He popped two doses of sleeping aid from his bedside cabinet, hoping to knock himself out so Dalmi could just quickly return to the office, her team, her family if no one answered the door or her calls. And Jipyeong did manage to close his eyes with his mind completely still. That is, until his phone vibrated again.</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em>I know you're not okay, so I just left some abalone porridge outside your door. You can pick it up anytime.</em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p>Before any other thought occurred to him, Jipyeong fell into the spell of the medication and was only awakened by the intense cramps in his gut that became impossible to ignore. Abalone porridge sounded like a good idea now; turns out that survival was built even deeper into his system than any amount of remorse. It was nearly dusk when he finally rose up, limbs strained at the sudden movements as he opened his front door.</p><p> </p><p>"<em>OW,</em>" yelled the lithe frame leaning outside the frame. It was Seo Dalmi, bent over and half-asleep with abalone porridge in one arm and a stuffed duffel bag in another.</p><p>"How long have you been here? You said you were just going to leave this outside," he leaned down, taking the takeout bag inside.</p><p>Dalmi glared at him from head to toe as she walked herself in, pulling the duffel with her. "You said you were feeling better but you look like shit." <em>Not that he'd ever look like shit, really</em>. But he was pale, his cheekbones hung a little closer to his skin, bags in his eyes darker and puffier that Halmeoni would have made a joke about using them for tea if she caught sight of them. Dalmi sighed, taking a step closer and putting a hand to his face. "Yongsan told me..."</p><p>Jipyeong recoiled at the mention, withdrawing from Dalmi's touch. "You should go, thanks for the porridge," he walked away towards the floor-length windows.</p><p>"You still owe me three questions."</p><p>"Correct, Ms. Seo." Yeongsil answered in earnest to Jipyeong's chagrin.</p><p>"Right, so let me stay until then," Dalmi took his hand, the tips of his fingers cold and wrinkling from dehydration. She turned his face towards her. "Hey, I'm here. Is there anything you need?"</p><p>"Last two," Yeongsil counted down in the background.</p><p>All his insides were screaming to push Dalmi away, to make sure her warmth never gets a whiff of the glacial indifference burrowing within. But Dalmi's hand stayed still, caressing his cheek as tears finally streamed down his face.</p><p>Defiance lost in his internal battle as she put his arms around him, tightening her hold as gut-wrenching sobs tore through his chest. "It's okay," Dalmi whispered softly, supporting his entire weight in her arms. "I'm here. Just let it all out."</p><p><em>I'm here.</em> If yesterday was any proof, words indeed hold power. But her words spread across him like a blanket, eating away at every inch of his sin, his soul, his rage until all was left was a silent resignation to Seo Dalmi's tender touch.</p><p>So when Dalmi told him to eat the abalone porridge, he gobbled it all up without complaint. When she vented about her mother forcing her way back into their home to her dismay, he listened patiently. When she told him that she didn't intend to stay by his doorstep; she just needed time away from a toxic situation, he nodded in silence. And when the sun set, Dalmi tucked him in to get some rest and so he did, settling into a restful, dreamless sleep.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>He was peering through the small opening of Samsan Tech's Sandbox office and saw Dalmi pale and downcast. She was in tears; the look on her face said this wasn't like all her previous heartbreaks. There was no dusting off and bouncing back from this one, her eyes spoke to him through the glass. He tried to open the door to hold her, help her, do anything he could to ease her anguish but the doorknob disappeared. So did the flooring, the ceiling, and the walls around him. Dalmi ran towards the glass, calling out his name but together with everything around him, she too faded into darkness.</em>
</p><p>His eyes swung open, a sharp inhale assuring him that his horrifying nightmare wasn't in any way real. Panting, Jipyeong ran out of the room and there she was, crouched in his kitchen while putting away the leftover porridge in a Tupperware. There's a certain tenderness overcoming him at the sight of Dalmi painstakingly scanning his fridge to see if anything needed to be chucked out.</p><p>"Oh, you're awake," Dalmi rose, her hand reaching for his forehead. "Feeling any better?"</p><p>"One left," Yeongsil hummed.</p><p>Dalmi laughed, playfully glaring at Yeongsil. "Well, you should be. Seems like your little friend here wants me to go now."</p><p>Jipyeong watched her every move without blinking, like he was afraid Dalmi really would disappear like she did in his dream.</p><p>"I already called Halmeoni, told her I wasn't okay with Mrs. Won – no, my mom," she rolled her eyes "staying at our place but she said we should talk about it like mature adults," she finished with air quotes, slinging the duffel bag on her shoulder with force.</p><p>Dalmi didn't want any of the maturity bullshit, but she knew her longstanding resentment for her mother was better unleashed than kept inside. "So now that you look like you're not gonna die any moment, I should–"</p><p>"Wait, don't go."</p><p>His arms snaked around Dalmi's waist, words spilling out of his mouth faster than a hurricane as he rested his chin on her shoulder. "I'll pay you back in full, no expiration date."</p><p>Her heart racing, Dalmi turned around to face him. "You don't owe me anything," she said softly. "I only told you I had 461 questions because–"</p><p>"I do owe you something," he interrupted, setting down her duffel bag to the floor and bringing his arms back around her waist. His heart could leap from his chest as his own drive startled him, but there was no turning back. "I love you."</p><p>Dalmi held her breath, scanning his gaze for a hint of hesitation she knew too well was always there but found none as he continued to speak.</p><p>"It sounds silly, right? <em>Hell</em>, I probably don't even know what love is." Jipyeong chuckled to himself. "But I do owe you things – happiness, comfort, warmth – everything you gave me first without asking what it's worth."</p><p>Dalmi's eyes were pooling with tears of laughter as he looked down shyly. "Back in the orphanage, they would tell us to form a straight line as the parents sized every kid up like somehow a glance would give you a straightforward ROI. Come to think of it, my blood type was the only thing remarkable about me; I was always too frank, too quick-tempered for their taste," he sputtered, consumed by his nerves.</p><p>"But you never sized me up like that – and it never occurred to me to see you that way either. If there was any feeling in the world that would make you say <em>to hell with risk,</em> it would be love, right? I love you, Seo Dalmi."</p><p>Dalmi wiped a tear off her cheek, overwhelmed by the wave of emotion bursting in her chest.</p><p>"I almost forgot," she shook her head, "you still owe me one question."</p><p>Jipyeong smiled his widest in the last twenty-four hours. "Is this a polite way of rejecting me?"</p><p>But Dalmi's face was serious, eyes locked on to him like he was helpless prey in the palm of her hand, probably true if he were being honest. "Would you..." Dalmi swallowed her last bit of reluctance. "...show me how?"</p><p>"Ms. Seo, you have completed..." Yeongsil's voice drowned in the periphery as Jipyeong carried Dalmi in one swoop, her back gently landing on his silk-covered mattress.</p><p> </p><p>There was no Demo Day on the horizon, no onlookers in the alley, no accidental walk-ins on the Sandbox elevator. There was only Seo Dalmi, toying coyly with the string on her mandarin collar of her white lace blouse and pulling him down on top of her with all her invincible gravity.</p><p>"Dalmi..." hungrily escaped his lips to ask if she was sure. She answered by hooking her fingers on the buttons on his flannel top, undoing them carelessly until the fabric dropped to the floor. His lips sank into hers as Jipyeong straddled her hips, groaning in want from the feel of her body shifting under his weight. Jipyeong had always taken pride in his self-restraint, but he found it impossible to stop kissing her, sucking every last bit of her peach-flavored tint from her lower lip. Her hand trailed downwards, slowly stroking his hard-on through the thin fabric. His breath was heavy, ragged against her neck as her hand explored regions previously known only to her girlish imagination and the four corners of her bedroom. Instinct takes over her as she pulled up one of his fingers and sucked while stroking his manhood. Reveling in her lust, he kissed every inch of her, writing fifteen years' worth of letters on her skin with his mouth.</p><p>"Dalmi..." he breathed into her core when they were both completely bare. Jipyeong knelt at the edge of the bed, taking in the miracle that was Seo Dalmi's dewy skin, swollen lips, and ardent mouth begging him <em>please.</em> Aware that it was most likely her first time, his fingers brushed slowly over her soft, inner thighs before delicately slipping one to stroke her core. All his memories of boardroom applause or of collective euphoria at the stock exchange were drowned by the satisfaction of hearing Seo Dalmi utter his name breathlessly between moans as he delved in and swirled his tongue around her clit. Dalmi wrinkled his New York-sourced silk sheets in her fists as he slid one more finger inside, his dark eyes looking up to watch her entire body writhe in pleasure. With a mischievous smirk, Jipyeong had a fleeting thought of writing a thank you note to his realtor for casually dropping the tip on the soundproof walls.</p><p>"Dalmi..." his voice hoarse in her ear as he slid himself inside her for the very first time, acutely aware and filled by the tightness of her core. She shuddered in anticipation, waves of pleasure overtaking all other senses as she wrapped her arms around his neck, demanding for <em>more, faster,</em> holding on to him like her life depended on it. But it was his life that suddenly took a turn for the primal, incessant need to keep living. If life itself held the promise of <em>this</em> – of their bodies melting into one as she cries out his name and he tells her a thousand times over how fucking beautiful she is – then his past sins were utterly meaningless; he was sinning right into her and she drank every ounce of it. "God," he groaned as Dalmi ground her hips while he caught his breath between kisses. "Do you even have a religion?" she chuckled so innocently that he almost hesitated thrusting into her but she pulled him back down, sucking his tongue as she arched her back. <em>You</em>, he wanted to answer, if his mouth wasn't busy undoing hers.</p><p>"Dalmi..." he cried out. Jolts of electricity coursed through his entire body and her walls tightened around him in spasms at the peak of their climax. They stayed still for a moment, arms still entangled as their chests heaved in unison. He planted a kiss on her forehead as he settled next to her, spooning her from behind as their eyes locked onto the glint of light from the Han River bridge peeping between his curtain. Jipyeong sighed at how his entire day unfolded in that exact same spot – no more of the past, because his present was right there snuggling for warmth in his arms.</p><p> </p><p>"You kept the plant..." Dalmi's soft tone punctuated the serene silence, pointing to the pot perched on the window sill. "I saw it the first time I slept over, but I thought it couldn't have been the same plant. Now I'm sure it is."</p><p>"You won't even ask how it got here?"</p><p>"Should I?" she sighed. "It was always meant for the boy in the letters, anyway."</p><p>"I'm not that boy... not completely, anyway. Halmeoni also-"</p><p>Dalmi burrowed her face in his chest, the feel of her lips tickling him into silence. "Shh, modesty doesn't suit you as well as you think..."</p><p>Jipyeong laughed without a decent comeback in his bliss-flooded brain, and Dalmi took the opportunity to poke at the dimples she adored so much.</p><p>"Don't do that again, okay?" She plopped herself up on her elbow to offer a pinky swear. "Don't disappear like that again without telling me why."</p><p>"Well, I can't..." he began, well-prepared to whip out a speech about old habits dying hard. But her pinky reached out for his anyway, interlocking them within seconds.</p><p>"I want to be the person who comes to mind when life gets tough," she began, the pale light reflecting on her doe eyes. "I want to be the first person..."</p><p>A surge of warmth shot through his chest as he pulled Dalmi closer, sighing into her hair.</p><p>"I don't know if I should take that as a yes. So just answer this: why didn't you ask me to leave today?"</p><p>Jipyeong smiled, taking in the raspberry scent from her locks as he closed his eyes. "Because you're not just the first. You're the only one who stayed when I fell. You're my sandbox, Seo Dalmi."</p><p>She smiled, intertwining their fingers over her bare navel as their bodies sank into a peaceful slumber. "I love you too, Han Jipyeong."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Whew. That took a while, but I hope this chapter made it worth the wait. There's just something so magnetic about the way these two gaze at each other onscreen that writing scenes as intimate as these flowed so naturally (even if it's my first time).</p><p>Hope you enjoyed it as much as I did!</p><p>And as a thank you for the heartwarming comments... here's another chapter coming right up. 🤗</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. flight risk</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>What if Jipyeong and Dalmi wake up to dire consequences of spending a night together?<br/>What if Jipyeong has to make another harrowing choice for both their sakes?<br/>What happens when he receives a mysterious call from an all-too-familiar voice four years on?</p><p>A rewrite of Episodes 12-13, then diverges from canon completely.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Song rec for this one is <em>Turning Page</em> by Sleeping at Last <a href="https://open.spotify.com/track/2kfGoV9a5dbSKCNmUWH2ZF?si=yCXd0BeRT1GJAkmgqbwTQQ">here</a>.</p><p>Trigger warning: Contains a minor discussion of Yongsan's brother taking his life. A fix, hopefully, to the drama's terrible handling of it.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They barely had time to revel in their morning after as his alarm went off at exactly six in the morning, with Yeongsil casually reminding him of his daily exercise target. Dalmi, on the other hand, was fumbling over her duffel bag for new clothes that didn't have a whiff of Han Jipyeong on them. Her phone's been buzzing for the past ten minutes, alternating between Saha, Chulsan, and Yongsan. When Dalmi finally got to answering a call, she cursed and ran out of the apartment without saying goodbye.</p><p>Sensing her unease, Jipyeong quickly jumped into the shower and put on his usual ensemble, promptly calling Dongcheon to say he'll be stopping by Sandbox first before heading to their floor. He'd forgotten to mind whichever car he brought as his eyes narrowed on the estimated time remaining on his GPS before he reached the building. His chest was heaving as he caught his breath and made his way for the elevator. When the doors opened, a wide grin painted on Alex Kwon's face greeted him a good morning.</p><p>"Is that a double-sided coat, or is it really just inside out?" Alex's teasing tone bounced off the metal walls. "You've been having a <em>hell</em> of a ride lately, haven't you? You and one of my mentees?"</p><p>Swiftly taking off his coat, Jipyeong cleared his throat, his gaze searing through Alex's mocking expression. "What do you mean?"</p><p>Alex waved his hand in the air. "Oh, you know, sixth sense and all. Or the telling sign of Dalmi running out of our highly crucial meeting yesterday the moment your assistant mentioned your sick day."</p><p><em>Fuck, so she was in an investors' meeting</em>. Jipyeong's eyes shut close as every strand of restraint tensed to prevent him from punching a hole in the elevator wall.</p><p>"Well, I guess that's good news. She'll have good reason to stay in Korea then," Alex tapped the clipboard in his arm with a wink before walking out to Samsan Tech's office.</p><p>The door closed behind him as Jipyeong struggled to catch up amidst the buzzing crowds in the hallway. He reached Samsan Tech's door, panting as his vision was clouded by the exact same image from his nightmare the day before. The team was gathered in a circle, with Alex's clipboard open wide in front of Seo Dalmi, who looked around at her teammates like a dagger stabbed her and was twisted in her gut.</p><p>Dosan was yelling about something not being part of a deal; Chulsan was pulling his hair out in frustration; Yongsan was balling his fists, staring right at Jipyeong through the looking glass. Dalmi took notice and met his gaze too. <em>She can't</em>, he demanded from fortune because his nightmare materializing right before his eyes meant heartbreak without remedy for Dalmi.</p><p><em>I want to be the first person</em>, he remembered her saying as the floor beneath him threatened to swallow him whole. He couldn't even open the Samsan Tech door for fear of harming Dalmi by exposing whatever they were just as Alex implied. He wanted to run to her, ask her what's wrong, answer her every question like he always did, but he was frozen still as he saw tears fall Dalmi's cheeks, nodding at everything Alex was saying.</p><p> </p><p>His ringtone began blaring in his pocket; it was Park Dongcheon telling him an urgent matter needed his approval. Jipyeong tore his eyes away from the tragedy unfolding before him and proceeded to his office to calm the flurry of indecision and distress from a thousand other matters that needed his attention. He was uncannily silent for most of the morning meetings, sparing a gentle nod or a casual question every once in a while but more often checking his phone or the time just in case Dalmi called.</p><p>"Mr. Han, someone's here to see you," Dongcheon said warily as the team cleared the conference room, leaving only Jipyeong stuck on his swivel chair.</p><p>He held his breath, expecting a tearful Dalmi to enter any moment. But it was Kim Yongsan, his entire body trembling as he took a step to approach the man he accused of murder. Jipyeong braced himself, his jaw clenched at the sight of the boy who couldn't even look him in the eye.</p><p>"Mr. Han..." Yongsan gulped before coming to his knees and bowing low. "I'm sorry for what happened, it's all my fault."</p><p>The boy was weeping on the floor now, head still hung low as Jipyeong crouched down to hold him up. "Kim Yongsan," he cleared his throat. "There's no need for this, just-"</p><p>"CEO Yoon called me to her office yesterday," Yongsan interrupted in sharp, shallow breaths. "She told me my brother was already seeing Sandbox's therapist before he-"</p><p>"Mr. Kim, calm down," Jipyeong was utterly clueless at what exactly was happening, but he grabbed a tissue box and a water bottle anyway, motioning for the younger man to sit so they could talk properly. When Yongsan's breathing steadied, he was finally able to meet Jipyeong's eyes.</p><p>"Ms. Yoon showed me the records the therapist kept; that my brother was feeling too pressured by our family... because my parents didn't support his decision to open up a business," Yongsan swallowed the lump in his throat as he sniffled. "And I didn't know that. I only told him he was crazy, and then mooched off him like a useless brother."</p><p>Still not getting what the point of the revelation was, Jipyeong snapped. "What does this have to do with me?"</p><p>"Mr. Han, it's not your fault," Yongsan choked on a sob. "I can't pin all the blame for my brother's death to something you said because he had other reasons that had to do with me more than you."</p><p>Jipyeong sighed, the weight he carried two days prior suddenly lifting off his shoulders, yet he still couldn't whisk away his worry over Samsan Tech.</p><p>"So <em>please</em>, Mr. Han," Yongsan took his hand. "We made a terrible mistake trusting Alex. You know more about acquisitions than anyone. Just please, help us out this once."</p><p>He spat out the details even before Jipyeong asked anything. The quandary began months ago with all their shares divided equally, save for Dosan's dad and cousin's 1% each. <em>There was no key man from the start</em>, Jipyeong thought, already seeing the cracks before Yongsan even got to explaining the quake. Then Alex Kwon stepped up on Demo Day with 2STO's offer to acquire Samsan Tech for 2 billion won, sealing the contract with all four of them only the night prior in disguise of a company dinner. Jipyeong's entire body tensed on pins and needles knowing what exactly came next.</p><p>"Then 2STO said they're only taking your engineers to Silicon Valley, right?" he said flatly, running his hands through his hair in a cold sweat.</p><p>Yongsan nodded nervously. "But Mr. Han, our CEO wasn't even there when we signed the contract. If Dalmi was there, I'm sure she wouldn't have agreed. Would the contract even be valid?"</p><p>
  <em>If Dalmi was there? Why wasn't she? Right. Because of his petty, selfish request for her to stay in his arms.</em>
</p><p>"It's valid," he flatly said, eyes fixed on the floor. "You can call it a hostile takeover, whatever you want, but the CEO and all other positions are meaningless when an acquiring company negotiates directly with shareholders. So when you signed the contract, you already bypassed your CEO's authority."</p><p>"Mr. Han, there has to be a way we can void the contract, please."</p><p>"You signed it because you all were so psyched to move to Silicon Valley. What's so bad about it for you?" Jipyeong bit back his rage at how unjust the entire situation is for Dalmi.</p><p>"NoonGil. They're pulling the plug on NoonGil and Dalmi's grandma..."</p><p>As the news spilled out about Halmeoni's weakening vision, a tide of helpless grief washed over him and what little warmth was lit the furnace in his chest overnight was vanquished at Yongsan's revelation.</p><p>His entire field of vision faded into black and the next thing he saw was Park Dongcheon's face, bent over him in the conference room next to Kim Yongsan's concerned face after dark.</p><p>"Mr. Han? Are you okay? Should I take you to the hospital?" His assistant's frantic questioning made his head hurt even more as Jipyeong lifted himself up from the floor. "What happened?"</p><p>"Well... you were talking to Mr. Kim, then you just fainted all of a sudden. You should've stayed home if you were still sick," Dongcheon scolded, checking Jipyeong's pulse with worry creased over his brows.</p><p>"Kim Yongsan," he addressed the younger man. "I'll do whatever I can for NoonGil. Please don't tell Dalmi anything, I'll tell her myself."</p><p> </p><p>None of them breathed a word after that, as Jipyeong locked himself in the office the entire night with Yongsan. He called on every contact he had left in the States who was somehow familiar with 2STO's operations. He reviewed the company's stock price movements since its inception, its history, its product line, and even made simulations of its profit targets for the next decade.</p><p>He asked Yongsan to stay for technical questions, details about 2STO's future developments that were within its technological frontier. As the sun rose, the pair were completely exhausted and Yongsan bade his leave as Jipyeong prepared to meet with Alex Kwon. Nothing could stop him now; not even the thirty missed calls from Seo Dalmi that he'd left on silent since the night prior, not even if she kneeled in front of him in tears.</p><p>Jipyeong entered 2STO's office in long strides as the weight of his decision hit him in waves. <em>It's for the best</em>, he consoled himself repeatedly until the lift reached Alex's floor. Without knocking, Jipyeong invited himself in, settling into the suede armchair.</p><p>"Mr. Han," Alex barely hid his surprise at his sudden guest. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"</p><p>"I have an offer to make." Eyes sharply narrowing on Alex, the shrewd kind of investor he hated the most for preying on novices, Jipyeong took out the folder under his arm. Intrigued, Alex reached out for the file but Jipyeong swiftly pulled it from his grasp. "First things first, keep NoonGil running."</p><p>"Interesting," Alex mused, leaning forward to read Jipyeong's face. "The infamous <em>dealer</em>, South Korean venture capital industry's golden boy, Han Jipyeong is here to resuscitate the most unprofitable business model I have ever seen in my career? Guess I overestimated you."</p><p>A knowing smirk played on Jipyeong's lips. "You didn't. I'm exactly as it says on the tin." He took out two pieces of paper from the folder, putting them in the table in front for Alex to see. They were two historical stock price charts from 1996 to 2016, each almost looking exactly the same as the other – spiking upwards rapidly, then settling into a dangerous decline. Jipyeong uncovered the first graph to reveal <em>Yahoo, Inc.</em> "What do you think is the other company?"</p><p>Alex gulped in silent recognition of what Jipyeong was pointing out. He saw that chart every single morning from worried investors, each of whom he had to repeatedly assure that 2STO was doing better than its stock price suggests. "Fine, NoonGil stays afloat," he said slowly, stomping down on his pride from outsmarting the kids at Samsan Tech. He quickly drew a notepad from his desk to note it down upon Jipyeong's insistence. "What's in the folder?"</p><p>A wave of relief washed over Jipyeong at his gamble's coming to fruition. There was one thing he learned very early in life: that everything had an invisible price tag that had to be paid, no matter how long it's been since incurring the debt. There were no favors in his world, no <em>thank yous</em>, only a floating question of what comes in exchange for whatever he asked, and Alex Kwon was cementing the conclusion in his mind. Surrendering to fickle fortune who allowed him at least a figment of happiness for a moment, Jipyeong handed the folder to Alex.</p><p>"2STO Ventures: A Model for Corporate Venture Capital," Alex read out loud. "Impressive. But this is huge, I can't even think of anyone in the company who can make it happen..."</p><p>"I will," Jipyeong laid his final card down. "I'll gather the initial investment, organize the establishment, make it public. Take me with the engineers to the US."</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>As soon as he took a turn in his unit's hallway, he saw her huddled in the exact same position as she was not long ago – leaning on his doorframe feebly as he approached warily. Her tired eyes fluttered open as Jipyeong bent down to caress her cheek.</p><p>"Dalmi..." a sob was already forming at the back of his throat as he spoke. "What are you doing here?"</p><p>But Dalmi's eyes looked more hurt than defeated as she scanned his face. "You promised never to do that again, right? To disappear like that? Where were you this whole time?" She was crying now, collapsing onto his arms. "I was so lost and lonely yesterday, and I couldn't find you. I thought we were going to be each other's first-"</p><p>"Dalmi," he said again, unable to stop the tears now. "Everything's gonna be okay, trust me."</p><p>"What do you mean?" her question came out in a whisper. "What did you do?"</p><p>Jipyeong rubbed his hand over her back. "I made sure Halmeoni can still use NoonGil for as long as she needs to."</p><p>"Jipyeong..." Dalmi's voice shook, biting back the fact that she deliberately withheld the truth from him. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. It's just that at the time, you weren't in such a good place either, and I didn't want to add to whatever you were carrying."</p><p>He nodded, hiding the slight sting in his chest from being the last person to know about Halmeoni's condition. He thought they were family now. Maybe they were, until he and Dalmi began to live in a dream world where only the two of them and no one else, not even Halmeoni, mattered as much.</p><p>"It's okay," he said with a wry smile as he pulled completely away from her touch. "That makes two of us now, I guess."</p><p>"What did you do?" she repeated as he opened the door to his flat.</p><p>Jipyeong wiped the last of his tears as he motioned for her to sit. "I told you, I fixed it. We don't have to worry about Halmeoni and NoonGil now..."</p><p>"Han Jipyeong, <em>what did you do?"</em> she yelled at the top of her lungs.</p><p>"Do you want coffee? Tea?" came out his feeble attempt at normalcy. But she refused to play his game. Dalmi stood up and made her way to his room, holding the money tree with both hands. "Tell me what the hell did you do, or I'm dropping this pot."</p><p>Jipyeong merely glanced at her direction with a detached sigh. "You should keep it, it'll die if I leave it here anyway."</p><p>"<em>Leave?</em>"</p><p>"Dalmi, just come here so we can talk."</p><p>But she didn't budge from his bedroom doorway, her voice filling the entire room. "What is there to talk about? What did you tell Alex?"</p><p>"I'm leaving for the States with your three engineers," he said matter-of-factly, "to set up 2STO Ventures."</p><p>Dalmi looked at him in disbelief, her lower lip shaking as she struggled to form words. "Why didn't you tell me?"</p><p>"I knew you'd stop me. We haven't exactly been in our right minds lately," he snapped through gritted teeth. "Dalmi, this is why this entire disaster happened in the first place. If you hadn't been so rattled about the letters, you would have chosen me as a mentor. I would have told you everything we could do to prevent this. I was a distraction to you, so you weren't able to stop the acquisition. If you hadn't come here that day, we wouldn't be in this mess."</p><p>"What are you saying?" Dalmi shook her head at the man who was turning into the sharp-tongued stranger she barely knew. The bitterness in his tone never got to her, but this time they sent even sharper pangs than Alex's cold declaration of Samsan Tech's dissolution.</p><p>"That we can't be together. Didn't you just see what happened when we tried?" Jipyeong flared. "You still have a long way to go; you shouldn't let yourself be distracted by selfish assholes like me."</p><p>"So that's your fix – leaving without a trace and telling me <em>we're</em> not worth the fight?"</p><p>"Yes," Jipyeong nodded, sarcasm thick in his voice. "Do you have better ideas? I'm all ears."</p><p>"You're not even telling Halmeoni?" she started to protest, but his hand quickly twisted the doorknob.</p><p>"Nothing? I thought so. Go. I still have to pack, I'm flying out tomorrow night." His voice was entirely devoid of emotion, resigned to the choice he'd made for the both of them. With one last derisive look into his blank stare, Dalmi clasped the money tree in her arms as she stormed out of the building in tears.</p><p>Jipyeong himself collapsed to the floor as soon as the door shut close. But he had no time to waste. He had resignation letters to draft, more calls to make, hotel reservations to book, and a future to plan out for a whole subsidiary company in the palm of his hand. He picked himself up; there was no use crying over spilled milk. If anything, the move was more consistent with his life's string of fortunes. He was flung wherever life took him and he went with the flow. What he told Dalmi was true: they could hurt the people around them, including Halmeoni, if they tried to resist the current.</p><p> </p><p>"Yeongsil..." he called out late at night in the silence of his flat with two of his suitcases half-full. "Can you do a factory reset? I'm returning you to SH tomorrow, I won't be needing you anymore."</p><p>"Mr. Han," the AI replied swiftly. "Ms. Seo asked me to play something in case you ordered any variant of retiring my services for good. Initiating playback."</p><p>"Han Jipyeong..." began Dalmi's prerecorded voice from the eve of Demo Day.</p><p>"I honestly can't think of a good reason for you not to need Yeongsil. I mean okay, he can be annoying sometimes, but he's been there for you in a way that I wish I could have. So I hope your reason is because you have me now. You'll always have me from now on. You'll never be alone again, if it were up to me..."</p><p>Jipyeong choked on his own sobs as he fumbled with the controls to turn the damn thing off. "...but in case something happens and it won't be up to me, don't be alone for too long. Don't be lonelier than you already are. Because no matter how long it takes, you know where to find me. Okay? Thanks, Yeongsil. You can stop recording now." He heard a sniffle from Dalmi before the buzz completely cut her off and he was surrounded again by the solitude she told him to abandon. <em>Another time, Dalmi. Another life, maybe.</em></p><p>There weren't many things he took with him; he sold almost all his tangible assets within 24 hours: his cars, shoes, watches, and kept only the Han River apartment to his name and a pair of grey sneakers with a box of letters that Dosan was mindful enough to return.</p><p>He made sure his goodbyes were as quick and smooth as possible, not that he had many ties to begin with. Dongcheon shed a tear as he cleared his table and watched his boss leave the office. CEO Yoon told him she understood, and pat him on the back for doing what she would have done too in the same scenario. That she trusted his choice, no matter how sudden it was.</p><p>He passed quickly by Samsan Tech's office in Sandbox but it was nearly empty too, ravaged by the storm of a few days past. He thought of seeing Halmeoni before he left, stopped only by the image of her eyes telling him he doesn't have to go this far.</p><p>But he'd already gone far enough, taking a sip of champagne on the business class seat that 2STO was <em>kind</em> enough to purchase for their promising new head of investments. He tipped his head back, reclining in the cold comfort of a new life ahead.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>There was something about the adage of time passing quicker when you're having fun that Han Jipyeong never understood. Four and a half years whirred by in a blur, but he hardly had any moment within those thousands of days to remotely call <em>fun</em>. There were company night-outs, of course, with people he'd grown not to hate at the very least. He even had mentees who looked up to him, striving to outperform each other on whoever can clock out the latest to rival their workaholic boss' regular 16-hr record on file.</p><p>He had a sleek flat in the center of Cupertino, overlooking the actual city that never slept as he spent all his hours perfecting his pet project and giving 2STO exactly what he promised. Which, if Warren Buffett was ever asked, is one of the most unprecedented corporate comebacks in the history of the US financial market. 2STO's stock price went up more than 180%, remaining steady in its place as 2STO Ventures broke new ground by acquiring promising tech startups from Asia.</p><p>Even Bloomberg named 2STO Ventures its Breakout Corporation of the Year halfway during his stay, calling its pioneer the "hawk's eye ahead of the bull." There was no trader on the NASDAQ or who wasn't familiar with Jipyeong Han, the man who singlehandedly orchestrated a miracle for a stagnating tech giant. 2STO and its corporate venture capital model cemented itself as a case study for the most prestigious business schools, earning the man behind it a visiting position at the Harvard Business school and a hundred offers from different other companies.</p><p>But Jipyeong Han remained tight-lipped on the secret to his or 2STO Ventures' success. He declined all requests for interviews or public appearances, instigating a rumor that the man himself was a myth. He was mythical, sure, but what the entire world didn't know was that Han Jipyeong spent his scarce spare nights on the balcony of his Cupertino apartment alone – either with a shot of whiskey in hand or his phone, on the rare occasion that he called to check on Choi Wondeok.</p><p>His brief calls with Halmeoni kept him going early on, with her trivial stories about petty customers or record sales as the only reasons he ever broke into a grin. But even those correspondences were getting fewer and farther in between so Jipyeong learned again to live with himself, to survive changeless seasons by holding on to the promise of fulfilling his lifelong debt.</p><p> </p><p>"I'm good, you guys go ahead," he says to his junior colleagues in perfectly polished English on the phone. "I know it's a Friday, but I have someone over. Yeah. Have fun." <em>Having someone over</em> was his go-to alibi for declining invitations too often that he'd earned a reputation among the ladies, hoping to be that someone when all he's actually holding is a freshly opened Bourbon while tuned in to the evening news. Jipyeong worried briefly about his way to work as an unprecedented snowfall was expected, and cars in California just weren't built for snow. He swirled the drink in his hand, close to dropping it when he felt his phone vibrate.</p><p>It was an unknown number. 2STO gave him their brand-new phone to test prior to release but they let him keep his Seoul sim card, just in case Wondeok called. As soon as he picked up, Jipyeong knew it wasn't Halmeoni.</p><p>"Hello?"</p><p>"Jipyeong... Han Jipyeong," a familiar voice was trembling on the other end of the line.</p><p>"Seo Dalmi?"</p><p>"Yes, it's me..." she sniffled, suppressing a whimper. "Jipyeong... I have something really important to ask."</p><p>His heart raced and Jipyeong's mind wandered at what could be so important that Dalmi herself called him. "Hmm?" he barely mustered. "What is it?"</p><p>"What did you say your blood type was again?"</p><p><em>Pause.</em> "AB Negative," he muttered, still trying to wrap his head around the fact that he was on the phone with a crying Dalmi. "Why? Is everything okay?"</p><p>"I need you here. Right now. I'm sorry for barging in on you like this, but <em>please</em>–"</p><p>The roaming signal cut her off completely as he stared blankly at the phone for a moment. Jipyeong's fingers shuddered as he tried to make a return call, but it wasn't coming through. He paced around his flat, hands running through his hair as he reeled from her plea – the first-ever words they exchanged in a time period long enough to finish a baccalaureate. Dalmi had her pride, and he never forgot the scorn in her eyes when she left his apartment that day.</p><p>So what the <em>hell</em> could be happening in Seoul? Before his better judgment could say anything to the contrary, Jipyeong chose the only way to know the answer to his question: drive to the airport only with nothing but his passport, credit card, and his business travel bag good for no more than three days.</p><p> </p><p>Twelve hours couldn't pass quickly enough as he landed in Incheon and received a text from Dalmi that only had map coordinates to them. His hands shaking as he sped past the highways on the first rental he could find, Jipyeong felt his heart drop to the pit of his stomach as he parked the car. "You have now arrived at Severance Hospital," the GPS assistant mechanically droned on, but the driver had already left moments ago in a thoughtless sprint to the ER.</p><p>The entire place was abuzz with the bustle of nurses and patients all over the place that Jipyeong felt nauseous as he aimlessly navigated his way from desk to desk. Gulping down the worst of his fears, he uttered "Choi Wondeok" to the nurse in the front desk but only earned a vague shake of the head.</p><p>"Seo Dalmi," he finally tried breathlessly with the third desk in his path. "Wait a moment, sir," the attendant looks him up suspiciously as he tried and failed to call Dalmi with an expression that looked like the guest himself would faint any moment. "Sir, I found no patient named Seo Dalmi... but she's registered in the system as a guardian for Room 9010."</p><p>Furiously punching the elevator buttons to the irked stares of patients and their families, Jipyeong froze as the doors swung open and revealed a crestfallen Wondeok and Seo Dalmi weeping on the other end of the hall as she shook the arm of a man in a white coat. "I'm begging you," she was yelling. "There has to be someone..."</p><p>Her eyes darted sidewards, blinking rapidly in disbelief as Han Jipyeong paced towards them with downcast wariness. Dalmi dropped her grip on the doctor and ambled towards him, falling on her knees as she held both his arms. "You're here," she breathed between sobs. "Now, <em>please...</em>"</p><p>It took him a minute to scan the entire hall – from the linoleum to the blinding white light – and all eyes on him before taking a step towards the label plastered on the door that held all the answers to his dizzying confusion.</p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <strong>PEDIATRIC WARD</strong>
    <br/>
    <strong>ROOM 9010</strong>
    <br/>
    <strong>SEO YEONGSIL</strong>
    <br/>
    <strong>45 MONTHS OLD</strong>
    <br/>
    <strong>HEAVY BLEEDING — CRITICAL</strong>
  </p>
</blockquote>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>No pleasure without pain, right? JiDals know it all too well. 🥺 As the ending implies, this chapter is really where the story takes a life of its own. But I'm also grateful for the space this rewrite has given to all my personal could-have-beens, including the conversation with Yongsan, and Jipyeong outwitting Alex with his own expertise (albeit at a price). </p><p>We've got a few chapters left, so hold on tight as we ride the rest of the waves together with our precious little boy, Yeongsil. 🤗</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. collective bargaining</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>What if Jipyeong is met with more questions than answers when he arrives?<br/>What if he's given a chance to know Yeongsil after years of estrangement?<br/>What if 2STO comes knocking to threaten him again – will he decide to leave or stay?</p><p>In which Jipyeong finally meets his little boy, confronting age-old questions with the hope of a different conclusion. Fluff and angst mixed like noodles, served in full.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Seo Yeongsil.</em>
</p><p>No matter how many times he ran through the words plastered on the door to squeeze a little more sense out of it, bitterness and nausea overcame his senses that he could make out neither the floor nor the ceiling. Fixated on the label that singlehandedly effaced years of indistinguishable everydays, Jipyeong sank to the wall beside him in a losing struggle for balance.</p><p>"Look at me..." Dalmi was begging him, her clammy hands wrapped around his elbows. "I promise to tell you everything once our... once Yeongsil's stable. Ask me everything then, I won't spare a single detail."</p><p>She was on her knees, her entire body trembling from his unexpected presence and the fear still hanging over their heads. "It was my fault," Dalmi hit herself furiously. "If only I wasn't working at the office too late that he had to cross the street from the daycare by himself..."</p><p>Wondeok moved in her direction to grab her granddaughter's arm. Dalmi's head sank to Jipyeong's feet, her sobs pouring out in a torrent on his travel-worn loafers. "Please, he's <em>everything</em> I have."</p><p>Gulping down every last bit of hurt, Jipyeong's tears cascaded down her disheveled hair on the floor. <em>Jesus Christ.</em> Did they never plan on telling him until he was on the brink of losing his only chance to meet the boy?</p><p>Afraid of the affirmative, he desperately sought to even out his breathing before addressing the dazed man in the white coat. "Doctor, I'm AB negative. Tell me what I should do."</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>White. The blinding kind. A pulsing oximeter wrapped around his finger.</p><p>Bit by bit, he regained his consciousness as the ache in his entire body and the padded hospital walls reminded him that the events of the nights prior were definitely not a dream. Not that he wants to be part of <em>any</em> dream involving Dalmi's tears and a child's life hanging in the balance.</p><p>
  <em>His child.</em>
</p><p>"Mr. Han, you still need-"</p><p>But Jipyeong was already tearing out his IV tube, sending the attending nurse to a panic over his sudden movements. They took out too much blood, they told him over and over, he wasn't in a condition to donate but they made an exception since the child was in critical condition. But neither were any of the staff willing to answer his questions as he grabbed whomever he could find in the hallways like a madman let loose from his restraints.</p><p>His feet dragged him outside where sunlight poured over the Severance Hospital garden. Strolling patients eyed him with pity, as daylight could no longer conceal the paleness of his features and the unstable gait he forced himself to walk with. His eyes darted everywhere, not entirely certain what he wanted to see. Just <em>something</em> that could make every step forward taste a little less like a slow death.</p><p> </p><p>"Ahjussi!"</p><p>The call came from a shadow no taller than two feet closing in on Han Jipyeong until the little boy was right under his nose. The child blinked up at him, the light from the awning gently reflecting on his dark eyes that mirrored his a little too closely for coincidence.</p><p>"Are you okay?" The boy cocked his head sidewards, pointing at his hand that still bled a little from the rapidly torn IV insertion. In a mix of his own weariness and awe, he knelt to the boy's height and broke into a smile. He didn't know what he wanted to see, but the little one with a bandage on his forehead looked every bit a <em>miracle</em> like he'd never seen before. The boy's nose, his ears, even the way he blinked were all reminiscent of Seo Dalmi.</p><p>The boy poked a finger into his cheek, breaking Jipyeong's reverie over every single one of his features. "I also have those in my pictures," he poked with his tiny fingers. "Dimples. My mom said they're pretty rare... but you have them too. You must be really special, Ahjussi."</p><p>Jipyeong's grin melted into a feeble line as tears pooled into his eyes. He merely nodded as the boy kept poking at the hollows in his cheeks, all-smiles as he found someone like him. Someone <em>special</em>. That word never sat well with him – it felt like a backhanded compliment or a tired euphemism from people who only wanted to say they didn't expect a scrawny orphan to reach what he did. But from the boy's lips, they sounded true, like Jipyeong wanted to believe it. Their shared mirth was broken only by a familiar singsong voice from a distance.</p><p> </p><p>"Yeongsil-<em>ah</em>, can you help me find my way to the bench?"</p><p>As expected, it was Choi Wondeok walking with a cane a few meters behind them. But instead of holding a phone in front of her like she did with NoonGil, Halmeoni appeared to call on the boy in front of him, who sprinted towards her immediately.</p><p>Hearing his steps, Wondeok scolded the boy. "<em>Aigoo,</em> the doctor told you not to run yet, right?"</p><p>Jipyeong cleared his throat and bowed, hoping to excuse himself after finding out just enough of what he needed to know. He gazed at Halmeoni from head to toe, looking even more fragile as her condition nearly rendered her completely without sight. She walked in small steps with a cane now, her head turning to the sound of his voice.</p><p>"Good Boy? Are you awake?"</p><p>"Halmeoni..." Jipyeong began, leading her to the bench a few feet away. Wondeok grabbed her purse, pulling out some coins and feeling them carefully with her fingers before handing them to the boy. "Yeongsil, get us some juice from the vending machine, will you?"</p><p>The boy nodded and walked away, counting the coins with a spring in his step. Jipyeong watched in quiet wonder.</p><p>"Isn't he too young for that?"</p><p>"Oh, we've been asking that question since the day he was born," Halmeoni laughed, resting her cane on the side of the bench. Her hand slowly found Jipyeong's nape, stroking it downwards with a shaky rhythm. "You've been out of it for two days, I was worried about you."</p><p>But Jipyeong recoiled at her touch. He wasn't in the mood to be comforted, not after the boy's crackling laughter still echoed in his mind. "How is he? Is he gonna be okay for sure?"</p><p>"The doctor said he can go home tomorrow, but he's still due for follow-ups every week for another month. Thankfully, his head's in good shape. He was just too young to lose that much blood after the accident."</p><p>It turns out Yeongsil was hit by a high schooler riding a scooter under the influence after the little boy crossed the street alone from day care, fortunately at a speed that wasn't fast enough to cause enough damage. But the onlookers bade too much time that it took three minutes of the boy's blood spilling down the street before anyone minded to call an ambulance and Dalmi's number at the back of the boy's student ID.</p><p>"He's a strong one, always had an appetite for survival since Dalmi carried him. The doctors kept telling her to eat this, drink that but even if she had too much on her plate to obey every single advice, he came out healthy and never gave us reason to worry. Until this week." Halmeoni wiped a stray tear off her cheek. "I've always wanted to tell you, since the day I found out..."</p><p>"So why didn't you? Were you disappointed when you found out it was mine?"</p><p>"Disappointed? Good boy, I was more upset that you weren't next to her the entire time."</p><p>Jipyeong swallowed his whimpers as Wondeok continued. "Dalmi made me promise not to tell you. She said she was only keeping the child if you didn't find out... if you wouldn't come back for them."</p><p>"Was she that angry at me?"</p><p>"Not like she had the time to." Wondeok sniffled. "The moment you left, she was struggling to put together a case against 2STO with Saha, which they eventually dropped a few months later. But then a funding opportunity for a nonprofit came along, so she hustled on that too for a year. All through the highs and lows of choosing to keep Yeongsil. Without a damn break."</p><p>"If only I was here for her..." Jipyeong said through gritted teeth, fighting the pressing urge to yell out his rage.</p><p>"So no, she wasn't angry at you," Halmeoni ignored him, finishing her train of thought. "Nor she was suffering the entire time. This is the happiest I've ever seen her, raising the bright boy right by her side all these years."</p><p>She held his hand and squeezed it lovingly. "I wish you could have been there, not only to carry the weight with her but also the joy – his first words, his first steps, when he picked up a calculator that just happened to be beside the table on his first birthday – all those things I wish you could have been part of, too."</p><p>The pair quickly rid themselves of any sign of wistful tears as the boy came sauntering back with two juice packs and spare change towards their direction, humming a song about Dokdo Island that he'd memorized quicker than peers a year older.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Her fatigued form folded over the kid-sized hospital bed, Dalmi turned over to her sides in a restless sleep after almost 72 hours of forcing herself awake. When her eyelids fluttered open, the only light entering the room were streetlights from outside drawing shadows on the hospital floor.</p><p><em>It can't be nighttime already.</em> Her thoughts darted back to her son, worry drawn over her face. She turned and a hooded figure was in a shallow slumber, crouched over her bed.</p><p>"You're awake," Jipyeong whispered slowly as his head rose.</p><p>Dalmi nodded, wavering at how to begin this conversation. He was her pen pal-slash-confidante, her best friend, her first <em>everything</em> imaginable, but his empty gaze on her now in the darkness of Yeongsil's hospital ward made Han Jipyeong seem more and more like a stranger she barely knew.</p><p>"I don't know how to thank you," Dalmi began in earnest, her head bowed in embarrassment. She was trying to smile, but the sight of his slackened shoulders tore away the façade she was trying to put up. No longer was this the Networking Party of years past when they had to be their best selves to make a good impression. Tonight, they were reduced to the secrets spilling out of their shells – Dalmi, especially, that forcing a smile felt like a betrayal to the memories they shared.</p><p>"I only did what I had to do," Jipyeong answered, eyes skimming over her face and resisting the urge to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "You don't need to thank me."</p><p>"Han Jipyeong," Dalmi couldn't put a finger on the intensity of emotion engulfing her. <em>How could he spit out those one-liners without a tinge of regret? </em> She exhaled sharply, fidgeting with the blanket on her hip. "What do you want to know?"</p><p>"Are you okay?"</p><p>"Don't worry about me, I've been through hell and back in this place before. This is seriously nothing," Dalmi tied her hair messily in a low bun.</p><p>Jipyeong glanced around, images of Dalmi giving birth somewhere in the same hospital flashing in his mind. "I'm sorry you had to go through all of that alone... You know I could have-"</p><p>"No, you couldn't." Dalmi interfered calmly. This was a monologue she'd told herself a million times before that saying it to him felt like a perfunctory gesture at this point. "I'm serious. I'm not just saying this out of pride or whatever. When I found out I was expecting, Halmeoni's vision worsened rapidly that she relied on NoonGil for almost everything – cooking, going to the bathroom, going out for a walk."</p><p>"I couldn't have given you a reason to return," Dalmi continued. "If NoonGil was in any way cut off by 2STO during those years, I couldn't imagine how Halmeoni would have lived."</p><p>"But I could have tried something... Dalmi, I would have done anything."</p><p>"Oh, you've done <em>everything</em>," Dalmi cut him off sharply. "You flew out in a moment's notice, left everything you had going on in here – what more could you do?"</p><p>He sank in his chair, reduced to silence at the weight of her words. "You were right that day," Dalmi flared, hot tears spilling out with her words. "You and I were too distracted that we forgot about the most important person in our lives. And I wasn't going to throw that away and put Halmeoni in the backseat again by casually dropping 'oh by the way, we have a son' in a long-distance call."</p><p>"You know not everything is that black-and-white..."</p><p>"Not black-and-white, huh?" Dalmi scoffed. "Is that why you flew out as fast as you could for the quickest fix you decided all on your own?"</p><p>"Dalmi, had I known about-"</p><p>"It doesn't matter," she said through gritted teeth, cursing the tears rolling down her cheek in fury. "What's done is done. I don't regret anything at all. When I see Yeongsil, the past doesn't bother me as much. When he looks up at me, all I could think of is being with him now and his future."</p><p>Dalmi turned away from him to stifle her sobs. "I'm sorry, I just turn into an angry mess when it comes to him. Jipyeong, I'm grateful you're here. You saved my boy's life and I can't thank you enough. But it doesn't change what I feel about it. If you don't have any more to ask me, can I ask you one question?"</p><p>She faced him, eyes swollen yet sharply fixed on his. "Are you ready to be a father to Yeongsil? Because I don't want to introduce him to someone who's just gonna take the first flight to California when things get hard. I can bear that but not my son."</p><p>Jipyeong felt the gulf in his chest sink deeper at the offer on the table. The boy was, without a doubt, the most precious thing he had ever laid eyes on, but what about him? <em>Father</em> was never a word he had in his own vocabulary; and even <em>family</em> was becoming a more distant notion over the years. His eyes flitted up and down in a quandary, his incomprehensible expression making it harder for Dalmi to stop her tears from falling.</p><p>"Dalmi, I honestly don't know what to say..."</p><p>The door behind them slid open, flooding the room with the hallway's fluorescent glow, interrupted only by a teeny shadow scampering towards the pair.</p><p>"Ahjussi!" Yeongsil recognized Jipyeong immediately as the boy climbed up to embrace his mom. "Did you make my mom cry?"</p><p>"No baby," Dalmi whispered into Yeongsil's hair, holding her son closer. "Mommy's okay, don't be angry at him."</p><p>The image of mother and son rendered Han Jipyeong speechless. Yeongsil glared at him with furrowed eyebrows, protecting his mother from the strange man who did make her cry. The boy turned to his mom again, burrowing his face in her chest. "Mom, did you see the ghost again? The one keeping you up at night?"</p><p>Dalmi looked at Jipyeong and nodded into Yeongsil's hair. "He's not that scary after all. Mommy was just afraid he'd fly away again without saying goodbye."</p><p>"Like Peter Pan and Wendy?"</p><p>Dalmi laughed despite herself at her son's inadvertent wisecrack. "Kind of like that, baby."</p><p> </p><p>Jipyeong escorted himself out of the room as Dalmi put Yeongsil to sleep after the boy asked her to tell him stories again about Neverland for the hundredth time. He saw Halmeoni peering from the door outside, sighing as he walked out.</p><p>"How long 'til you fly out?" She handed him <em>poca</em> chips and banana milk from the hall's vending machine.</p><p>"Two days. I just took an emergency leave, and HQ's already been calling me nonstop since this morning."</p><p>Wondeok nodded, punching a hole in the milk. "You can stay with us if you want. I'm sure you won't get any rest if you stay anywhere else."</p><p>"Will Dalmi be okay with it?" He hesitantly sipped, eyes fixed on the linoleum.</p><p>"Oh, you know her pride. But you've seen her too, exhausted out of her wits. She needs all the help she can get. Just for two days."</p><p>Jipyeong nodded slowly, realizing it was the least he could do.</p><p>"You know how products these days have a return period?" Wondeok chimed in. "Think of it as that. You'll know what you're missing," she pat him on the back.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>And so despite the screaming admonition and crossed arms of Seo Dalmi, Jipyeong did end up hauling in his suitcase into the achingly familiar alley. The boy eyed him cautiously on the ride home the next morning, his forehead finally free from the bandage after the doctor cleared him for discharge. Jipyeong offered to pay, but Dalmi's card was out before he could even reach for his wallet.</p><p>Yeongsil ran out of the car, worrying both his mom and grandma who yelled at him to be careful in unison. Jipyeong carried all the bags as he entered the gate warily, questions still littering his mind on whether he truly was welcome. He watched as Yeongsil offered his arm to Halmeoni, the boy guiding her up the steps as he listed down everything he wanted to eat.</p><p>As soon as they were past the door, Dalmi was already sprawled on the sofa with a huge yawn. "Halmeoni," she said with eyes closed, "just give me just ten minutes, I'll get lunch ready."</p><p> </p><p>Ten minutes later, Jipyeong finished changing the lights and moving around the bulky furniture upon Wondeok's request but Dalmi was still deep in sleep. Instinctively, he took the blanket on top of the fresh laundry pile he was carrying and draped it over her sleeping figure gently.</p><p>"Ahjussi," the boy tugged at Jipyeong's shirt from behind him. Yeongsil was holding a set of clothes and slippers, including a familiar pink Ko Gildong shirt. "You can change in my room if you want." Without hesitation, Yeongsil took his hand and led him to a remodeled space that used to be half of Dalmi's room.</p><p>Jipyeong glanced around the sunlit room washed in blue carpeting. The walls were adorned with stars that Yeongsil was proud to say glowed in the dark, shelves filled with action figures that he vaguely recognized and buckets of Lego blocks neatly stacked in the corners. What caught his eye was a blue birdbox hanging above Yeongsil's bed, converted into a nightlight with a pull chain for the kid to reach.</p><p>Reading his fixation on the light, Yeongsil pointed to it. "They cut the tree down from that far place. Mom drove me there and she asked the <em>ahjussis</em> if she could get the blue box."</p><p>"Did she like it that much?"</p><p>Yeongsil shrugged his shoulders and scratched his head. "I asked her if it had any baby birds in the box. She said the baby bird was me."</p><p>A smile crept up on Jipyeong's face, playfully ruffling the boy's hair as he changed into comfortable clothes and mismatched slippers. He went out of the room and found Halmeoni trying to pick apart pots from pans in the cupboard. "Let me take care of it," he ran to her aid and picked up all the cookware from the floor. He glanced back at Dalmi on the sofa, unbothered by all the noise.</p><p> </p><p>"What does he like?" Jipyeong murmured, gesturing at the boy following his every step.</p><p>"Why don't you ask him?" Halmeoni exhaled, wiping off the sweat from her brow.</p><p>Jipyeong took a cautious step backward and did exactly as his instinct told him the first day he met the boy in the hospital garden, albeit a lot more carefully.</p><p>"Yeongsil..." he muttered, still in disbelief that he was calling the boy by the name he knew too well in memory. "What would you like for lunch?"</p><p>"Noodles!" Yeongsil said, arms flailing as he ran all over the kitchen. "I like any kind of <em>guksu</em>, ahjussi!"</p><p>"Dalmi ate nothing but that while she was pregnant," Halmeoni murmured. "It's the only thing he eats on a good mood."</p><p>Soon, Jipyeong was on his phone. He ignored every notification popping up from his 2STO colleagues or news about his stock picks trying to get ahold of his attention. Right now, he was deeply immersed in the web of recipe sites, looking for the simplest <em>guksu</em> template that would somehow suit a child's palate.</p><p>But the cupboards didn't have much of what he needed, and Yeongsil couldn't take his eyes off the mysterious man on pins and needles over their kitchen. "Ahjussi..." the boy walked towards him, wearing a backpack and a cap. "Do you need something? There's a small store near here that Mom always goes to when she cooks. We can go there if you want."</p><p>Jipyeong ended up walking right next to Yeongsil who looked like he hadn't been in any road accident at all with the way he ran all over the street. Fighting back his reluctance, Jipyeong took hold of the child's arm as they went up the slope all the way to the minimart. When they reached the square, Yeongsil took off to peep into a noodle restaurant, signs of hunger sounding from his stomach.</p><p>"Ahjussi..." The boy looked up at him warily. "Do you really know how to cook <em>guksu</em>?"</p><p>Jipyeong scratched his head, unable to respond with honesty or otherwise.</p><p>"Can we just eat here?"</p><p> </p><p>Before he could even nod twice, Yeongsil was already pushing the glass door with all his might, yelling "ahjumma!" like a tired office worker frequenting the place. The owner took a quick glance and winked at the boy, bringing out two bowls of <em>guksu.</em> She also took out a small pair of training chopsticks for the boy who was clapping in pleasure at the smell of the broth.</p><p>"Young man, you should blow on the noodles before feeding him. He might burn his tongue if he eats it now."</p><p>"Feed him?" Jipyeong gulped as the woman eyed him suspiciously then returned to attend to her other customers. Yeongsil quickly picked up his Dooly-styled chopsticks and put his head closer to the steaming bowl.</p><p>"Ya, <em>ya!"</em> he practically screamed out of panic that the child was gonna cause another accident and Dalmi would kill him for sure now. "Give me that," Jipyeong took the bowl and mixed the noodles for Yeongsil instead as the boy quizzically tilted his head.</p><p>Jipyeong blew on the noodles just as the ahjumma instructed, tasting them first to see if they weren't too hot anymore. After three failed attempts because of his own nervousness, he finally fed Yeongsil a bite, and another, then more until the child was sipping the warm broth on his own, giggling and rubbing his stomach in satisfaction. "Ahjumma!" Yeongsil yelled. "Can we order two more for takeaway?"</p><p> </p><p>Yeongsil was jumping from table to table, effortlessly mingling with the sitting customers while Jipyeong settled the bill. That was definitely something the boy got from Dalmi − a penchant for socialization backed by an immense willingness to trust in strangers. At least the Dalmi he knew before the impasse. But Jipyeong was thankful that she was raising the boy that way, albeit slightly concerned over the possibility of kidnapping if ever Yeongsil was left on his own.</p><p>"Ahjussi!" Yeongsil came running towards him in tiny steps, energy filled to the brim from the small talk he'd initiated with almost everyone in the room. "Do you like ice cream?"</p><p>As they closed the door of the establishment, Jipyeong stole one glance back and reminisced on all the times he passed by a <em>guksu</em> restaurant when he was younger, filled with sons and fathers and <em>families</em> – the word was less bitter in his tongue now as a little hand wrapped around his pointer finger and a teeny voice narrated what kind of ice cream could only be bought in the supermarket and which ones were available in the convenience store.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>"Yeongsil-ah! What took you so long?" Dalmi stood by the gate in relief as the pair approached the alley holding soda-flavored Power Cap sticks and takeout noodles. She lifted Yeongsil up in her arms, checking every spot of the boy's body for any sign of cuts or bruises.</p><p>"He got hungry on the way so-"</p><p>"It's okay, thanks" Dalmi feigned a polite smile as Jipyeong handed her the plastic bag for lunch. He stood for a second longer outside as he followed the shadow of mother and son entering the house, with Yeongsil excitedly telling Dalmi about his short trip out with <em>ahjussi</em> and Dalmi peppering the kid with kisses all over while enthusiastically following up his stories with questions. <em>You'll see what you're missing,</em> he recalled Halmeoni saying. And he did, just now.</p><p>He made his way inside, heart bursting out of his chest as he boldly approached Dalmi with a firm answer in mind. She turned to him as he put Yeongsil down.</p><p>"You have anything to say?"</p><p>Jipyeong gulped, overcome by courage to beg and kneel for a second chance to be there for her like he should have been all this time. "Dalmi, I-"</p><p> </p><p>His phone, plugged to the wall only a foot away from them, suddenly blared in his work ringtone. Their heads turned as "2STO HQ" displayed on the caller ID, earning a sharp exhale from Dalmi as she took a step away from him.</p><p>"You should take that call, looks important," she remarked with a tinge of scorn. "Excuse me."</p><p>Jipyeong bowed, his eyes darting between the boy curiously observing their exchange from the kitchen and the ringing phone turning into a death knell, pulling the plug on his newfound certainty with a crushing blow.</p><p>"Hello," he finally picked up the phone as he heard Dalmi crying in the bathroom close by. "Yes, Jipyeong Han speaking. Anything the matter?"</p><p>"It's Alex," the voice sardonic on the other end. "Rumor has it that you're back where you shouldn't be. At least your IP address says so. 2STO Ventures' stock price has been fluctuating since those pictures of you arriving in Incheon came out."</p><p>His jaw clenched in fury, but nothing was riskier than revealing any sign of weakness to Alex Kwon. He walked out, afraid that someone would overhear the exchange. "That's right, Jipyeong replied flatly. "There's a promising seed-stage company that CEO Yoon told me about. Thought I should check it out before anyone gets to it first."</p><p>Alex chuckled; Jipyeong could already imagine the giant smirk on his face. "Doesn't sound like a reason for an emergency leave to me. Is SH offering you anything? Don't forget our deal..."</p><p>"I checked this morning, our stock barely moved 1%," Jipyeong cut him off. "Alex, I'm not stupid. Nor am I someone you can order around. So whatever you're trying, just stop it."</p><p>"Gutsy, that's new," Alex remarked with a hum. "Well, say hi to Ms. Seo and her grandma for me. How's she doing, by the way?"</p><p>He furiously ended the call. The urge to throw his company-issued phone a mile out overcame Jipyeong's senses, but he was stopped as Dalmi walked out from behind in a business suit, eyes still swollen though her blank expression tried to hide it. "Yeongsil and Halmeoni's asleep. I'm going to Sandbox to meet with Saha," she said with a bow.</p><p>"I'll drive you there. I thought I should at least say hi to CEO Yoon."</p><p>Cursing herself and the <em>maturity card</em> she'd been used to playing lately with him, Dalmi nodded and they set off for a wordless drive to a place that stirred up thoughts of long-lost dreams and foregone paths.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>"Long time no see," CEO Yoon greeted him with a huge grin, his old mentor pulling Jipyeong for a long hug. "What brings NASDAQ's golden boy to this lowly firm?"</p><p>"<em>Aish,</em> stop it," he pat her back affectionately. He missed working with her, working in a place where he set the pace without a gun pointed to his head, trigger ready to be pulled at a single misstep.</p><p>"No, I'm serious," Ms. Yoon pulled back, motioning for him to sit in the armchair in front. "Even when you were here, it's not like you to just stop by and say hi. Spill it."</p><p>"Ouch," Jipyeong held his hand to his chest in jest. "For real though, I do miss it here."</p><p>"Then come back," his mentor calmly responded, taking a sip of her tea. "You know there's always a place for you here."</p><p>A sigh escaped his lips, eyes drawn to the skyline in full view from the CEO's office. "I still need to do something," Jipyeong took out his phone and turned it off. "I want to know what you think about it. But I'm ready to go all-in, no matter what you say."</p><p> </p><p>"...you know that's not your only option, right?"</p><p>"I know. But 2STO isn't just any company. Samsan Tech isn't the only victim. I've been trying to prevent it as much as I could but they're <em>fucking</em> relentless."</p><p>On the other side of CEO Yoon's door, Dalmi recoiled at the echo of a name she'd already buried in the recesses of her memory. She was carrying a report for CEO Yoon; the latter being a part of their nonprofit's Board of Advisers.</p><p>He could hear Han Jipyeong's outrage from where she stood and the familiar decisiveness in his voice that only meant he was going to fling himself forward into fire again. Dalmi fidgeted with the folder in her hands, her teeth nervously picking on her lips.</p><p>"I have to finish what I started," she heard him say. "It's not for me, it's for every startup out there that's bound to fall prey to 2STO."</p><p>"What about Dalmi and the boy?"</p><p>"I have to do this for them too. Dalmi's been having a hard time because of that goddamn company, struggling to pick herself up from the mess that Alex Kwon left her in. It's my fault that things didn't change at all. I was just another pawn in their game. And I'm still going to be if I don't do this."</p><p>"You know the media's going to be on your tail," CEO Yoon's frustration bled through the walls. "How are you supposed to protect them then?"</p><p>"Then I'll have to stay as far away as possible from them. Make sure they don't get associated with me in any way. It's not impossible."</p><p>"Han Jipyeong!" His mentor yelled, her hand slamming the table in resigned exasperation. A moment of silence since, her voice calmed down. "I've told you what I thought. Don't be the hero, just be a father to your son. The offer's still on the table in case your pride can take it."</p><p> </p><p>Walking out, Jipyeong swung the door open only to be met by a shocked Dalmi right outside it. "Dalmi, I-"</p><p>"Save it," she walked straight into the CEO's office without a glance in his direction. "And I'll find my own way home. Just go. You still got a flight to pack for, right?"</p><p>When the door shut close, Dalmi finally let go of the folder from her trembling hands. She almost fell out of balance trying to bow down to CEO Yoon, but the latter was still deep in thought.</p><p>"Ms. Seo Dalmi, you're here," she finally broke away from her reverie, eyes looking up. "I think you have a right to know what we just talked about."</p><p>"What do you mean?"</p><p>"Han Jipyeong, ever the martyr." She <em>tsked</em>. "He's ready to go all-out corporate whistleblower against 2STO."</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Dalmi took the long way home, trying to wrap her head around the idiocy that Jipyeong was bound to commit. There was no one in the history of business who chose that path and was left unscathed in its aftermath. It was a tragic endpoint to a stellar career, one that had no future in any other company in the world.</p><p>Whatever reasons Han Jipyeong had for social suicide as deep as he had in mind, the consequences would be too much to bear. <em>How long was he going to make his life a matter of atonement?</em></p><p>Perhaps, NoonGil would finally be free for everyone, including her grandma, if it were out of 2STO's hands.</p><p>Perhaps, startups can no longer worry about tech giants eating them up once the expose triggers a movement against predatory acquisitions.</p><p>Perhaps, the business world would collectively wake up to the reality that no company is too big to fail. Perhaps then it could be a little fairer if 2STO collapses.</p><p>But it wasn't a world where she could be with him, nor can Jipyeong be with her and Yeongsil. It could turn out to be a world where Seo Dalmi of four years' past would have been satisfied, when justice was finally served to honor her and other novices' hard work.</p><p> </p><p>As she alighted at her last stop, Dalmi froze at the sight of the empty alley in front of their house. Dim streetlights flickered in her step, bringing her back to the night they danced over her small victories and kissed for the very first time. It dawned on her then as the ballads of old played from the neighborhood radios that there was no world that was worse than one without Han Jipyeong in it. No world that was darker, more cruel than living her life as he suffered alone. <em>For</em> her, as he always did.</p><p>She quietly made her way into Yeongsil's room at bedtime. He was still playing with a half-foot-tall Batman action figure, his favorite of them all, against a clown plushie he called Joker. Dalmi sat next to him in bed, observing her carefree son as he handed the plushie for her to hold. She smiled feebly, running her hand through Yeongsil's hair.</p><p>"Yeongsil," she held her son closer. "Does Batman always have to beat the bad guys?"</p><p>The boy thinks for a second before responding with a smile. "He's a superhero, of course he does."</p><p>"Even if he gets hurt?"</p><p>"Yeah," the boy admired his action figure. "That's what makes him awesome. He doesn't mind getting hurt as long as Gotham's protected."</p><p>Dalmi smiled, wondering if the soul of an adult was trapped in the four-year old's body. "Is he happy after doing that? After saving the world?"</p><p>"He has a Batmobile, a butler, and a Batcave... but I don't think he's happy alone in there."</p><p>Dalmi nodded with a sigh. "Right? I'm sure he's not either."</p><p>Yeongsil looked up to her in curiosity, eyes blinking rapidly. "Mom, do you want to watch Batman with me?"</p><p>"No, it's okay" she giggled. "Sometimes I just wonder about him. Do you think there's a way for Batman to win and still be happy?"</p><p>Yeongsil placed the action figure down and wrapped his arms tight around Dalmi. "Don't worry about Batman, Mom."</p><p>"Hmm?"</p><p>"He can win too when he has the Justice League with him. Batman has a hard time making friends with them, but he's happier when he's not fighting alone."</p><p>"You know what, that makes a lot of sense," Dalmi planted a kiss on the crown of his head. "But doesn't Batman have a son? Isn't he worried about him when he goes off to fight?"</p><p>Yeongsil chuckled at her question. "Mom, stop worrying about them. Damian grew up without his dad, but he's strong enough to fight too. Even when his mom and dad are always out there fighting."</p><p>She sighed, ever astonished by the words coming out of her son's mouth and by herself too, now so desperate that she sought the wisdom of a comic book character in the mind of a child. "Baby, can Mom sleep with you here tonight?"</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>At the break of dawn, Dalmi stirred from Yeongsil's room, careful not to wake the boy up as she tried to make out the sounds outside the door.</p><p>Wheels. Chairs. The front door shutting close.</p><p>She sprang up and ran, barely putting on her coat atop her overalls. Jipyeong's small suitcase stood near the gate, the man himself out of sight until a couple of headlights lit up and the sound of a running engine caused her almost to trip over herself.</p><p>Boldly, Dalmi stepped in front of the vehicle, stretching her arms out like her entire life depended on it.</p><p>"You forgot your suitcase," she woozily said, unsure of what exactly she had planned to say. A dazed Jipyeong stepped out of the car to grab the thing in question, but Dalmi's hand was quicker on the handle.</p><p>"Don't..." she put the suitcase behind her back childishly, as if holding it hostage was going to stop him from leaving. "Jipyeong, you don't have to do this."</p><p>"Dalmi, just trust me. Everything's gonna be okay."</p><p>"You said that too before you left," hot tears spilled out as her voice echoed through the alleyway. "That everything's gonna be okay, but it wasn't. Jipyeong, it's not 2STO that made it hard for me. It's going through all of it without you, without knowing if you ate dinner, if you slept well, if you ever smiled when you were alone. I was wrong to say I don't regret anything because I do regret not stopping you before when I had the chance."</p><p>Rendered motionless, Jipyeong's heart was stuck in his throat at the staggering barrage thrown his way. His frail "what do you mean?" barely came out in a peep.</p><p>"Don't do it. We need you. <em>I</em> need you." Dalmi grabbed his cold hand, pulling him closer. "I already talked to CEO Yoon. We can do this, you don't have to be alone."</p><p>"But the risks..."</p><p>"Are ours to bear. Together. Trust <em>me.</em> Let me be here for you."</p><p>Conviction felt like nothing to him now; justice, meaningless as Dalmi's arms enfolded him in a steady surge of warmth he'd almost forgotten. She breathed into his chest, genuinely afraid that Han Jipyeong's return was merely a figment of her weary mind that she thought any space between them was a sign he was going to disappear at any moment. He briefly pulled back, tilting her face towards him to check if she was crying. But Dalmi was calm, her heart at peace for the first in a long time.</p><p>"God, I missed you so much," he said, pulling her in for another iteration of their first kiss – more engulfed in uncertainty but hopefully older, wiser, stronger together.</p><p> </p><p>"Ahjussi?" a small voice squeaked from the open gate the exact moment before their lips met. The boy's eyes widened, bewildered at the sight of the strange man and his mother locked in an embrace.</p><p>They jumped in a panic, scratching their heads and wildly staring at each other for whoever can start talking to the child. Together, Jipyeong and Dalmi crouched down to meet their son's eyes.</p><p>"Yeongsil..." Jipyeong began, unsure of what to say next.</p><p>"We have something to tell you," Dalmi followed, filling in his blanks as she promised.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Happy new year, loves! Terribly sorry for the delay, life kind of got in the way. I hope this long-ish chapter is able to fill our JiDal hearts for the meantime. My heart melts at each of your comments, thank you so much for your patience. 🥺 Aside from healing from our collective devastation, y'all are the reason fic-writing brings so much joy to me. </p><p>I'm already set out to finish this fic by the weekend, but do look forward to more of little Yeongsil and a corporate battle to end this lil timeline (and an epilogue!)</p><p>Sending hugs to everyone as we approach another year with hopefully less broken hearts. ✨</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Han Jipyeong is one of the best-written KDrama characters and for that, I'd like to thank Park Hye-ryun no matter what endgame happens. This is just a way to reconcile with the 99% possibility that I won't be completely satisfied, which is okay since we can write about our what-could-have-beens anyway.</p><p>Here's an attempt at that. It's my first time writing in the SU universe so let me know what you think. :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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